HOW MAORIS SHOULD BE FOUGHT
I mentioned in the last chapter that our paucity of men allowed the
Hau Haus the opportunity of making things warm for us, and they lost
no time in taking advantage of it; for one day they had the cheek to
ambuscade, within half-a-mile of the fort, a dray loaded with rations.
Now there was a standing order that a ration dray should be escorted by
twelve troopers, but as the unfortunate O.C. of the post from whence
the dray started had only twelve men for all duties he could only send
three, and the Hau Haus thought this far too good a chance to be lost.
The dray was drawn by two horses driven tandem fashion, and when it had
reached within half-a-mile of Waihi, and within view of the camp, a
party of natives lurking in the scrub fired a volley at the escort and
charged with their tomahawks. One trooper, named Haggarty, went down,
horse and man, but the driver managed to unhook his lead horse, jumped
on its back and with the remaining two troopers won through to the
fort, from whence a party of Rangers had already sallied.
These soon reached the spot, where they found the empty dray and the
remains of the poor chap chopped to pieces, but the rations and the
shaft-horse taken away. Now this vexed the Colonel, and more than
irritated the rest of us, as rations were very scarce indeed, and we
were quite pleased when the O.C. determined to return them a Roland for
their Oliver; so next day another dray, apparently heavily loaded, with
an absurdly small escort, was despatched from the fort.
Some hours, however, previous to its departure, a party of Rangers and
friendly natives had been despatched to do a bit of ambuscading on our
behalf, and proved themselves worthy of the trust placed in them; for
when the Hau Haus, having spotted the sham escort, came down from the
bush to gobble it up they fell into the trap so skilfully planted by
the Rangers, who knocked the immortal stuffin’ out of them, sending
them back to the bush hungry and howling, having on this occasion
received toko instead of tucker.
This lesson, though a severe one, the O.C. did not think quite
adequate, so he determined to strike another blow to teach them better
manners for the future, and to leave his men’s rations alone. He
therefore with the greatest secrecy called in men from the other posts,
which was a very dangerous thing to do, as it left them for the time
quite defenceless, but he had no other course to pursue, and Fortune
favours the bold player. Still, after scraping every man together, he
could muster only one hundred and thirteen men of all ranks, and it was
a very, very risky game he intended to play, and one he would never
have attempted had he not had the greatest confidence in his officers
and men.
Of course a body of men as large as this one was bound to be spotted
leaving camp, so that to mislead the enemy’s scouts he first marched
to the fort on the Waingangora River and pretended to start work
there, but at ten P.M. we silently left there, crossed the river,
and made for an old deserted pah where our scouts had come across a
well-defined track running inland. This track they had scouted until it
had ended in a clearing, but could penetrate no farther as the enemy’s
scouts were too much on the alert. However, he hoped that he had
blinded them by what we had done at Waingangora.
Well, we started, passed the deserted pah, moved carefully on till
we came to the clearing, and then, as we were ignorant of the actual
position of the Hau Haus, we lay down and waited. Presently we heard,
not far off, some cocks crow, which giving us the desired information
we moved off in their direction, and had not proceeded a mile when,
just as day broke, we came to a long, narrow clearing with a lot of
huts scattered all the way up it. As there was no possibility of
surrounding the place our O.C., without a pause, led us right up it,
leaving a few men at the door of each hut as we passed, who, with
carbines loaded and cocked, stood at them without making a sound. The
movement, quickly conceived as it was, was admirably carried out, for
although before it was quite completed an alarm was given, yet very few
natives escaped, nor was there the least confusion as the men, all of
whom were old hands, stood ready without saying a word.
When the arrangements were finished to his satisfaction the Colonel
posted himself in front of the largest and most central hut, and
delivered his ultimatum, shouting out: “Will ye, O Ngatiruanui, who
are now surrounded, surrender yourselves as prisoners of war or be
shot?”
The query was a brief one; the answer was still briefer, for it came
in the shape of a volley fired from all the huts that dropped a lot of
our men, although it would have been better for the inmates had they
considered their answer more carefully, as Rangers are not men with
whom to bandy words. For in a moment fire was applied to every whare,
which, being built of dry raupo as inflammable as petrol, burst into
sheets of flame that transformed the quiet village into an animated
hell.
Out from the flaming whares rushed men, half mad, with scorched hides
and blazing hair, only to be blown off their feet by shots fired from
a few yards distant, while the flames, smoke, explosions of powder,
yells, cheers and shots, together with the roar and crackling of the
burning huts, made a service that sunny Sabbath morning that must have
delighted Old Nick himself.
This part of the day’s performance did not last long, as in less than
ten minutes every hut but one was consumed, and every Maori dead with
the exception of that one’s occupants. Unfortunately the hut remaining
was a big whare puni made of thick slabs of wood covered with earth,
at the door of which lay the dead body of one of our men, and as no
fire would touch this little fortress there was nothing to be done
but dig out the garrison. We at once set to work at this job, and had
nearly unearthed them when we were attacked from three sides by an
overwhelming party of Hau Haus.
It was evidently high time to clear out of that, but our Colonel was
not the man to be balked of his prey. There was no time for more
digging, so he again called on those inside to surrender, promising to
spare their lives if they did so at once.
To this they consented, and one of them came out, but he had no sooner
shown himself than a number of friendly natives standing close by
recognised the unfortunate Johnny as one of their bitterest tribal
enemies, so let drive a volley at him, nearly blowing the poor wretch
to smithereens. This low-down conduct drove the Colonel hopping mad,
and he cussed the delinquents with so much unction that the tone of his
cuss words reassured the Hau Haus to that extent they at once came out
and surrendered.
It was now high time for us to skip, and we promptly made ready
to do so, as we had already lost three men killed and seven men
badly wounded; this for a small force like ours was bad enough, but
casualties in savage warfare mean a much greater loss than the actual
number of men hit.
You see it is this way: A man gets wounded in civilised warfare; well,
his side only loses the use of one player for that match. As for the
wounded Johnny, he just makes himself as comfortable as circumstances
permit and quietly awaits the arrival of the first ambulance, be it
friend or foe, when he is picked up and taken care of.
This, however, was not a rule of the game as played in New Zealand. If
a man got wounded there his own friends must get him away smart, for
if the Hau Haus got him, so far from making his wound whole they would
make him into a whole wound by torturing him in a way not fit to write
about, and as it took at least four men to carry the poor chap along
the rough bush paths we lost the use of five men’s rifles instead of
losing only one.
Then again it was considered very bad form to leave a dead man behind,
for doing so not only supplied the enemy with a quantity of fresh meat
rations, but the capture of one was considered to be a great triumph
to them and an equal disgrace to ourselves. It therefore amounted to
this, that as we had ten men _hors de combat_ it left us with only
sixty-three rifles to withstand the onslaught of the infuriated Hau
Haus, besides which we had nine prisoners to shepherd.
Nevertheless we must skip, so were just moving off when Pierre rushed
up and reported the enemy had seized and were holding the only path we
knew leading out of the confounded clearing.
Even this Job’s comforter did not daunt our gallant O.C., who at
once summoned the prisoners and demanded if there was any other path
leading out of the place we could make use of, at the same time
politely informing them that if there was not, much as he regretted the
necessity, he would be forced to order their immediate execution.
This reasoning they saw was sound, and they at once promptly replied
that there was another road, and that rather than linger any longer on
that insalubrious spot they would guide us out by it.
Now this was real kind of them, so we carried the wounded off, leaving
a rear-guard of only thirty-five men to cover our retreat, and it was
fortunate, not only for themselves, but for the whole of us, that they
were a splendid lot of well-trained old hands who were conversant with
every wrinkle in bush fighting, and moreover had as commander one of
the bravest and most experienced officers in the country.
Nor were we going to have a very rosy time of it, as carrying a heavy
man in a blanket along a narrow, crooked path running through dense
bush and over a terribly rough and broken country is no child’s
play. Remember that on a bush footpath stretchers are of no use, the
unfortunate wounded must therefore be lugged along either in men’s
arms or doubled up in a blanket; that we had none of those drugs nor
appliances that now rob the battlefield and hospital of half their
terrors and that even on reaching camp a fern bed with a rolled-up
blanket for a pillow was the only accommodation a wounded man could
hope for.
At the front there was no chloroform, medical comforts nor nurses, so
that the lot of a wounded man was by no means a happy one. Well, we
were nearly clear of the bush when the Colonel called me and pointing
out a low rough hill said: “Burke, you see that hill, the path runs
half way round its base and we shall be in open ground when we get past
it, but if the enemy gain possession of it we shall lose heavily. Now,
I want you to take ten men, make for the top of it as fast as ever you
can, and hold it till Northcroft and the rear-guard win past.”
Hastily summoning the first available ten men, among whom were old
Jack, Pierre, George, Buck and Tim, the rest of them being friendly
Maoris, we pushed for the hill as fast as we could get over the ground,
reaching the top of it just in the nick of time, for as we surmounted
its crest we ran bang into a dozen Hau Haus who were struggling up the
other side.
There was no time for speech-making nor tactics, so we just jumped at
one another, and I had no sooner fired my carbine than I saw a big
native with his tongue protruding and the whites of his eyes turned
up spring at me through the smoke, twirling a long-handled tomahawk
around his head, as if it had been a shillelagh in the hands of one of
my own countrymen at home, and moreover had barely time to throw up my
carbine, so as to guard a swashing cut he was good enough to deliver
at the left side of my head. Troth and it was no fool of a cut either,
for it drove my carbine in until the muzzle of it came against my left
shoulder, which fortunately prevented my guard from being quite broken,
though the razor-edged blade at the business end of the six-foot
flexible manuka handle, whipping over my carbine barrel, cut my left
ear in two, scarred my cheek, and gashed my eyebrow so deeply that the
flap of the wound fell over, which besides deluging me with blood quite
obstructed the sight of my left eye, so much so that I thought I was
blinded.
This thought transmogrified me into a raging fiend, so I let go my
carbine, and, without even pausing to say damn your soul, flew at his
throat like a wild cat, which I was fortunate enough to get a firm hold
of with my right hand.
Well was it for me at that moment that I had devoted so many hours of
my young life to the gymnasium and _salle d’armes_, and that my great
natural strength had been increased by culture to an almost phenomenal
extent, for now it was to be tried to its very utmost, and my wiry,
well-trained thews and sinews tested to their breaking point. Well was
it, also, for me, that by the quick fury of my wild-cat attack I had at
once made good my hold on his bull throat, a hold I swore to maintain
till death parted us. Gad, I was very angry, for the thought of having
lost my eye was more than I could tolerate, and I saw scarlet.
My opponent was a big, powerful fellow, standing fully six feet and
well proportioned, who, although inclined to run to flesh, was still
very active, and a most formidable antagonist for a young man who
measured only five feet seven inches and weighed under eleven stone. He
was, moreover, a noted warrior and a past master in the use of native
hand-to-hand weapons. Therefore, failing firearms, it was the very best
thing I could have done to grapple with him, and it was to my immense
advantage having caught the first hold.
The moment I had closed with him he dropped his long-handled weapon
and strove with all his might to tear away my grip on his throat with
his left hand, while with his right he attempted to seize mine, but
I successfully guarded it and, although he repeatedly struck me with
his right hand, we were too closely locked for him to do me much harm,
while I was surely if slowly choking him.
The struggle seemed to last for hours, in reality it did not last for
five minutes, but it was a hot five minutes, and one to be remembered
a lifetime. For a few seconds we tugged and heaved at one another, and
twice he swung me off my legs into the air, but I hung on and landed on
my feet. In vain he tried to sink his nails into my right forearm, but
the muscles, hardened by years of fencing, cricket and gymnastics, were
as rigid as iron, for although he scratched and scored the skin yet
he could make no impression on the arm itself, the nervous fingers of
which were nearly buried round his windpipe.
I now began to feel I was getting the best of it, besides which,
although still animated by the determination to kill, I was becoming
cooler and cooler, and watched for any opportunity so that I could
profit by it.
Again and again he made desperate efforts to throw me off, and after
one prolonged, furious struggle, in which I thought my sinews must
give way, his feet got caught by a vine and we fell heavily sideways
to the ground; when with one tremendous heave I gained the upper hand
and drove my right knee into the lower part of his breast-bone. Oh, but
it was a glorious feeling of exultation that rushed through my brain
as I tightened, if possible, my clutch on his windpipe and, using the
leverage of my knee, tugged and tugged again.
One more despairing effort made and thwarted convinced me he was beaten
as he perceptibly grew weaker and weaker, and although I never relaxed
my attention to my own particular quarry I glanced round to see, if
possible, how the game was progressing with my comrades, as with the
exception of one or two pistol shots everyone had fought mute, and the
grim match had been played with tomahawk, knife and hand.
The first I spotted was Tim, on his feet, wrestling furiously with a
big Maori, and at the same glance saw George glide up and bury his huge
knife in the native’s back, who at once relaxed his hold, when Tim,
throwing the dead body clear, yelled out: “Mr Dick, where are ye, sor?
Oh, holy Jesus, where’s the master?” Jack I could also see kneeling
in the stunted fern evidently top dog, for I caught the flash of his
swinging tomahawk and heard the crushing thud as the blow descended.
I could also hear the grunts and deep sobbing gasps and see the fern
trembling where men still fought in their death struggles, but I had
now no anxiety for the future as we had at least three hale men on
their feet and temporarily out of employment, so I started in to finish
off my man.
My man was by now almost passive, so much so indeed that I could have
easily drawn my knife with my left hand, but somehow the thought of
sticking a man like a pig revolted me. No; it had been up to now a fair
fought fight, hand against hand, so let the hand finish it; nor did he
require much more attention, as after one or two convulsive heaves he
lay quite quiet and I knew I had finished him.
I was just on the point of rising when up rushed Tim swinging a
tomahawk over his head, who with his eyes blazing yelled out: “Hould
on, Mr Dick, hould on, sor,” and before I could say a word sank his
weapon into the dead man’s head, sending the contents of it spurting
all over me.
“Faugh, Tim,” I said, starting to my feet. “It’s a dirty fighter you
are; give me something to wipe my face with.”
“Och, be the howly Saint Bridget, it’s kilt ye are, Mr Dick; oh, wura,
wura, where’s the doctor, bad luck to him,” whined Tim.
“Killed be d----d,” said I. “But he has blinded my left eye.” And
seeing the row was over I quickly gave the order: “Load all the
carbines, boys, and take cover.”
No sooner was this done than Tim was alongside me with a couple of
bandages and a pannikin of water, when, tenderly raising the flap of
flesh that hung over my eye, in a moment I knew that the sight of it
was all right and the relief of mind was immense.
It did not take my kind-hearted comrade more than a minute to replace
the flap and twist a bandage round my head, when I was quite fit to
attend to my duty.
First of all I looked out for any enemy; there was none in sight though
the noise of the rear-guard action was drawing much closer, and I was
delighted to see the Colonel’s party already past the danger point as I
was now able to judge how lucky we had been in capturing the hill, for
our loss must have been very heavy had the enemy succeeded in gaining
it, because the hill completely commanded the only footpath.
I next turned my attention to our own casualties; one friendly native
was dead, poor Buck, wounded desperately, was lying on his back
with his head on a blanket, and as I knelt down beside him, taking
his hand, he opened his eyes and murmured: “Good-bye, Master Burke,
struck bed-rock, panned out, shift my pegs,” and with a sigh or two
the gallant English yeoman drew his pegs and started for another gold
rush. The remainder of us, although more or less chipped, were all fit
for another scrap if called upon to face one, while nine dead Hau Haus
cumbered the ground.
Setting Jack to sew up our poor comrade in his blanket, while Tim and
one of the Maoris dug his last claim, with the rest of the men I was
keeping a bright lookout, when the Colonel with thirty men joined me.
“Well done, Burke,” said he, “by gad, you fellows have done well. Not
much hurt I trust? Well, my boy, you wanted to gain bush-fighting
experience, gad, you are getting it. I’ll leave you six more men and
take the others on to the rear-guard. In case you are attacked hold
this place to the last, but retreat when the rear-guard get round that
corner, we shall be able then to cover you. So-long,” and he was off.
I, however, was not called on to hold the hill, as Lieutenant
Northcroft made such a masterly retreat, and his men fought so well,
that the enemy, seeing we had possession of the position and rightly
judging that their own party, sent to grab it, had been cut to pieces,
after harmlessly burning an immense quantity of ammunition at long
range, drew off, allowing our men to disentangle themselves from the
bush, and to retire back to camp in peace.