MOTUROA
Our defeat caused consternation through the country, bitter
recrimination flying like hail before a southerly buster, while it
added greatly to Titokowaru’s prestige, who was at once joined by every
wavering native in the district. He had moreover captured from us over
fifty rifles and carbines, as well as revolvers and ammunition, which
enabled him to arm his recruits.
We, on the other hand, had lost heavily, for not only had fifty men
been killed or severely wounded, but out of the other men who had been
engaged more than half their number had been more or less wounded, and
very many of them were not fit for further active service, while the
remainder of the new chums became so utterly disorganised that it was
not even safe to let them do a sentry-go.
The state of the camp at Waihi was deplorable. The hospital overcrowded
with sick and wounded had not sufficient means of treating the
patients, while it was absolutely suicide for anyone to move beyond
rifle range of the fort. Moreover with such a reduced force of
efficient men it was more than manifestly impossible to maintain the
outlying forts, to escort food and forage supplies and also to provide
a force to meet the enemy in the field.
The Wanganui natives also demanded to go home, as their great chief
Hori Kingi Te Anaua had just died and it was necessary for them to
attend the tangi (wake), a ceremony of the most sacred importance to
the Maoris. We also received undubitable intelligence that Titokowaru
meant to move southward through the bush, cut off our communications,
and threaten Wanganui.
Under these circumstances Colonel McDonnell and the Defence Minister,
who had come up to the front, decided that the only thing to be done
was to abandon Waihi, with all the frontier forts, and fall back to
Patea, which could be supplied by water transport. Of course relief had
been sent to us, and Colonel Whitmore with a splendid division of the
Armed Constabulary quickly arrived from the east coast.
With these and our own reliable men we at once moved out to reconnoitre
the Hau Hau position, but although we numbered three hundred men and
found the enemy, yet for some reasons I never understood we fell back
after skirmishing to within less than three hundred yards of them, and
that without firing a shot.
Three days after this reconnaissance the retrograde movement to Patea
was commenced, and was very well carried out, for notwithstanding
the scarcity of transport the frontier garrisons were withdrawn, and
the wounded, with nearly all the stores, safely escorted to the same
camp ground from which we had so gaily advanced, nearly three years
before, so that all the toil, bloodshed and hardships endured during
that period had been borne for nothing. In fact we were far worse
circumstanced, for Titokowaru had moved through the bush in a parallel
line to our retreat, had forced the Paka Kohi tribes to join him, and
had taken up his headquarters at Hukatere, on the head waters of the
Patea River, and shortly forced us to abandon our principal outpost at
Kakaramea; then moving still farther south he established himself at
Moturoa, well to our right rear.
These movements put the fear of the Lord into the Wanganui settlers,
who fled to the town for protection, where, although they could muster
fifteen hundred militia, they squealed so lustily for assistance that
the Government, now trembling in their shoes, sent two companies of the
18th R.I., who were still in the country, to take care of them.
It was at this time that Colonel McDonnell resigned the command of
the district in disgust, and Colonel Whitmore was appointed in his
place--a change of commanding officers that gave us no pleasure, for,
although we knew him to be a brilliant soldier, yet he lacked tact, his
manners being decidedly against his ever becoming a popular officer.
Furthermore, although he had gained a good reputation in the Crimea,
he was ignorant of both the manners and customs of the Maoris, and
quite failed to raise any enthusiasm in the hearts of his colonial
irregulars. Still, as he was always ready to fight, and was quite
heedless of fatigue and privations, they tolerated him, though they
never respected nor loved him as they did Fighting Mac.
Titokowaru now became very active, for although he was too knowing to
attack strong posts, yet he swept off every head of cattle, burned
every house, ambushed every track, murdered a few settlers and killed
several despatch-riders and scouts.
The authorities, however, had not been idle. Major Roberts who had been
sent to the goldfields to try and re-enlist old hands now rejoined,
having persuaded over one hundred good men to accompany him, these
being further supplemented by another draft of a hundred, the majority
of whom were Irishmen who had taken their discharges from the 57th
Regiment, then on its way home, and all of whom were picked men. Again,
Te Kepa had joined with four hundred Wanganui Kupapas, so that Whitmore
was able to hunt out and disband all the riff-raff of undesirable
wasters we had previously been hampered with.
This was nuts to our old hands, for now everyone felt we could again
put up a fight that would not disgrace us, so the hearts of the Lost
Legionaries grew light and cheerful.
Our organisation had also greatly improved, as all the permanent
fighting men had been embodied into one corps, which for the future
was to be known as the New Zealand Armed Constabulary, and which soon
became a picked body of men, second to none in his Majesty’s dominions,
and as they were all trained bush fighters were invaluable for the work
they were called on to perform.
It was now high time to put a limit to Titokowaru’s capers, so the
Colonel therefore ordered a field force to pay him a visit on the 6th
November, the said force to consist of Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 6 Divisions
of the Armed Constabulary, two small parties of the Patea volunteers,
together with the Kupapas, a nice, handy taua (war party), being about
two hundred and fifty white men and four hundred natives.
At six A.M. on the morning of the 7th we found ourselves outside the
bush within which at a distance of about four hundred yards we expected
to find the stronghold of the Hau Haus, and we had been informed
that it only consisted of a simple stockade. This was false, as we
afterwards discovered it to be one of the strongest and most cunningly
constructed works ever built by Maoris.
The O.C. orders were that Te Kepa with twenty-five men of No. 1
Division and one hundred Kupapas should work his way through the bush
to the right rear of the pah; an hour being allowed him to carry out
this movement.
The order was successfully obeyed, Te Kepa penetrating to the point
assigned him, and lying down within forty yards of the pah itself.
It was now a regrettable incident happened through Colonel Whitmore’s
ignorance of Maori customs, for he involuntarily or otherwise insulted
an important Maori chief, upon which the remaining Kupapas refused to
enter the bush or fight, thereby preventing the surrounding of the
pahs, and the shutting up of Titokowaru inside it, which, had it been
done, would have forced him to surrender notwithstanding the defeat
of our storming party, as we afterwards ascertained the Hau Haus had
neglected to provision their stronghold and must have been starved out
in three days. But then Colonel Whitmore, notwithstanding the fact that
he was a brilliant soldier, greatly lacked tact, and seemed to take a
delight in, or at all events to be utterly callous about, injuring the
feelings of his subordinates, a failing that more than once cost us
dearly, anyhow it was to do so on this occasion.
As soon as the allotted time had expired Major Hunter was ordered,
with fifty of No. 3 Division and some other details, to advance as a
storming party, myself and Tim being in the crowd, and attack the front
of the pah, which we believed to be a simple stockade, and quite four
hundred yards if not farther in the bush.
A well-defined dray road led straight into the forest, along which we
marched in close order, and before we had proceeded two hundred yards
we came to a clearing. This clearing was only a narrow one, perhaps
sixty yards across, but what made it look ominous was that all the tree
stumps had been extracted, leaving no cover for a rabbit, while the
undergrowth on the far side seemed unnaturally dense. However Major
Hunter, who led in person, gave the order to double and we dashed
across it.
The morning was a damp and slightly foggy one in early summer, a light
mist rising from the ground in spiral wreaths and curling away among
the trees looked very beautiful in the rising sun.
We could see nothing of a stockade, in fact I do not think Major Hunter
realised we had reached the pah, and it was afterwards ascertained that
on this side of the pah there was no palisading at all, but that the
Hau Haus had made a breastwork by rolling the logs of huge trees into
a line, over which they fired, while in front they had made with the
branches interwoven with undergrowth and ground vines an impenetrable
abatis. They had also masked the work most cleverly, and as a dead
silence brooded over their position there was nothing to show that the
scrub was occupied.
At a steady double we crossed the clearing, reaching within fifteen
yards of the far side, when a single shot rang out, followed quickly by
two more.
“Charge,” shouted Hunter, but before we could quicken our pace up went
a terrific war yell, a sheet of flame and smoke met us full in the
face, a sheet of lead tore through our ranks and the roar of over two
hundred rifles and guns went echoing among the trees.
Down in a heap fell a third of our number, but the groans and cries
of the wounded were smothered by the frantic cheer of us men left on
our feet as we made a wild rush at the undergrowth, so as to get to
hand-grip with our enemies. It was in vain, the network of well-woven
vines and creepers was impervious, while their elasticity simply
bounced us back, when in desperation we hurled our bodies against them.
“Out tomahawk,” I howled. “Here, Tim, you and half-a-dozen men cover
us,” and my sub-division sprang at the entanglement, trying to chop our
way through the tough lianas so as to open a path for the rest.
The distance between ourselves and the yelling Hau Haus was not great,
not more than twelve feet, but we could not win through, for resting
their gun barrels on the boles of the fallen trees they discharged them
right in our faces, mine being severely scorched by the flash from one
of them.
In a moment the four men who had followed me with their tomahawks were
shot dead, and Major Hunter ordered me back, directing me to retire my
men a few yards, lie down and open fire.
This we did, and although much hampered by dead and wounded comrades,
for more than half of our men were by this time _hors de combat_,
we lay down ten yards from the bush in extended order and opened a
well-directed fire, aiming at the line of the enemy’s flashes.
It was now the saddest event of the day happened. We had been firing
for some minutes, and had already caused the enemy’s fire to slacken
and grow wilder, when Major Hunter walked up and down our line, an
action quite unnecessary, as our men were behaving, if not talking,
like angels.
“Lie down, sir, for God’s sake, lie down,” shouted some of the men, who
all loved him dearly. “There is no need to expose yourself, sir; we’ll
stand by you, sir, to the last grip.”
But he refused to do so, saying: “No, no, boys; I must show the world
to-day I am no coward.”
Under such circumstances the end could not be long delayed, and he fell
mortally wounded, having sacrificed his life, giving the lie to the
scum of unjust accusers who had thrown mud at him after the fight at
Turu Turu Mokai; he was carried out but died immediately.
Well, there we of the storming party lay out in the open, and although
more than half our men were dead or wounded, still we were determined
to hold our grip on the position, even if we could not succeed in
getting into the work.
Heavy firing was going on round the pah, perhaps some other party might
have better luck, anyhow we were not going to budge until we received
further orders.
We had hung on like this for more than half-an-hour when the enemy’s
fire slackened off, and of course ours followed suit, and we were
wondering what was to be the next move, when all at once a stark-naked
Hau Hau, probably mad with fanaticism and wishing to give an exhibition
of his invulnerability, jumped on to the top of their breastwork,
exposing his whole person to us from his knees upwards, and of course
standing up as he was he could also see us lying down within ten yards
off from where he stood, and began to go through his incantations,
holding his hand, palm turned towards us, at the full stretch of his
arm and barking the words Hau Hau at us like a dog.
Poor fool, he had either not learned the right incantation, or
something else must have been amiss, or at all events he was wrong in
his conjectures _re_ invulnerability, as our men, who had all been
waiting for a chance, let drive a volley at him that simply lifted him
off his feet, so that if he finished his formula at all he must have
completed the peroration in a hotter climate.
It was just after this interlude the fire breezed up again, and Tim,
who was lying close to me, said, “Begorra, Mr Dick, here comes the boys
to help us. Do you not think, sor, we may bate the beggars yet? Sure
isn’t it a trate to have rale men beside ye? Look to the rear, sor,
sure they’re splendid.”
I turned on my side and looked, and there I saw the Colonel--I hated
the diminutive beast, but, by gad! he could handle men--leading No. 6
Division (most of whom had been 57th men and Irish at that) out of the
bush. They were advancing in extended order as if on parade, and at
once drew the enemy’s fire from us, at the same time our call and the
retire were sounded.
These calls, loth as we were to quit, we obeyed, carrying with us,
however, all our wounded and, with the exception of the four men who
had been shot in the undergrowth, all our dead. These four bodies it
was certain death to approach, nor had we sufficient men left to have
carried them had any of us succeeded in getting hold of them; as it
was most of us had to carry each his man as far as the bush. Strange
enough to say the wounded man I individually carried out was an old
schoolfellow of mine who had been in the same house as myself.
Retiring in perfect order, though as fast as we could, we passed
through the files of No. 6 Division, and in a short space of time
reached the dray track, where we deposited our loads and lined the bush
to cover the retreat of No. 6.
No sooner were we safe than our gallant rescuers fell back as if on
parade, and the Hau Haus, poor misguided miscreants, fancying they had
got us on toast, leaving the pah, rushed after us, thinking they were
going to enjoy a high old time cutting up a beaten taua; but here they
made a blooming error, for no sooner had No. 6 reached the bush than
they also halted and joined us.
Howling with exultation and mad with fanaticism the Hau Haus rushed
across the clearing to tomahawk the men whom their prophet had promised
them that the angel Gabriel would deliver into their hands, and
possibly, had we been a mob of half-baked new chums, he might have done
so, but as we were not we waited quietly for the Colonel’s order, who,
good little man, though he was a beast, allowed them to come within
twenty yards of our ambuscade.
Then out rang his word of command: “Give them hades, boys,” the last
word being lost in a volley that knocked the immortal stuffing out of
them and sent them howling back to their pah.
Now it is my firm belief that had Colonel McDonnell been in command
he would have followed up this success with another charge, as our
men were full of fight and well in hand, but Colonel Whitmore thought
otherwise, and give the wee devil his due he never lacked for pluck or
enterprise, so maybe he was right.
Anyhow, picking up our dead and wounded we slowly retreated to
Nukumaru, and next day took up a new line of defence on the Kaiiwi, as
it was the best position to defend the town of Wanganui.
A few days afterwards we received the intelligence of the massacre of
Poverty Bay, and it was decided to despatch Colonel Whitmore with two
hundred picked men to the east coast. It was, however, first necessary
to provision Patea, and the strong redoubt at Te Wairoa. This was done,
and then, handing over the lines of defence to local militia, with one
hundred Armed Constabulary to give them backbone, the little Colonel in
an infernal temper embarked, on the 2nd December 1868, with two hundred
and twelve men for Poverty Bay, and I bade farewell to the west coast
for a time.
PART II
CHAPTER I
WAR ON THE EAST COAST OF NEW ZEALAND--YARN OF THE GATE PAH
After a voyage during which nothing happened worth recounting we landed
at Tauranga, a pretty little township with a good harbour situated
on the Bay of Plenty; but before I proceed with my own personal yarn
I think I might give you some idea of the fighting that had taken
place on the east coast previous to our arrival there, and also a
brief account of the extraordinary ruffian, Te Kooti, we were about to
encounter.
It is very difficult to write an account of New Zealand warfare, as
it was mainly a jumble of innumerable skirmishes dotted here and
there with an engagement that by stretching a point might be termed a
battle. Again so many different tribes took part in the twelve years’
continuous fighting, while the various campaigns would often partially
die away only to flare up again, and so many separate expeditions took
place at one and the same time as to render it almost impossible to
write an account of the long war so that it could be understood, much
less be made interesting to an ordinary reader, who would quickly
become confused and bored by a superfluity of dates and of the Maori
names of trivial combats, although each of them was necessary and cost
the men engaged therein much hardship and bloodshed.
When the war originally broke out in 1860 the east coast tribes sat
tight and did not join the Taranaki and Waikato natives, but at the end
of 1863 they had in a great measure joined the coalition of the tribes
under the newly elected Maori king, and in 1864 a large percentage of
them, abandoning Christianity, adopted the crazy Hau Hau faith.
At this period, many settlers having been murdered, General Sir Duncan
Cameron proceeded to Tauranga in April 1864, with a field force of
two thousand men well supplied with artillery, having moreover at his
disposal a splendid naval brigade drawn from five ships, and with
this fine body of men attempted to overawe and subdue the rebellious
district.
Two considerable tribes, however, the Arawa and the greater part of
the Ngatiporou, had refused to join the Hau Haus, and threw in their
lot with the Europeans. The former of these proved themselves to be
the most useless allies, being the only New Zealand native tribe of
a cowardly disposition; they were also prone to overvalue themselves
and give trouble to the white officers sent to command them, for which
reason I suppose the Government pampered them to an inordinate extent,
thereby making them more useless and insolent than ever Providence
intended them to be. The Ngatiporou, however, were a splendid fighting
race, who, under their glorious war chief Rapata-te-Waha-waha, rendered
most valuable services.
The New Zealand wars brought to the front many colonial officers, some
of whom had previously served in the regular army, while others had
acquired their training and experience through long years of active
service, making up for any lack of theory and barrack-square knowledge
by their sterling common-sense, their acquaintanceship with Maori
customs and the ready way they adapted themselves to the exigencies of
bush fighting.
Names such as Whitmore, Tuke, McDonnell, St John, Von Tempsky and
many others, men never heard of in England, should be treasured in
New Zealand, and with these every colonial boy should be taught
the names of the two gallant Maori chiefs, Rapata-te-Waha-waha and
Meiha-Kepa-Te-Rangi-Hiwinui, whose splendid courage and devout loyalty
did so much to bring the long, weary war to a successful termination.
General Cameron with his forces arrived at Tauranga in April 1864,
and at once took the field, commencing operations by an attack on the
Gate Pah, at which place he was badly beaten. Many and varied are the
accounts I have heard about this disastrous action, both from old
soldiers who took part in it, and also from natives who fought there
against them, and after weighing the pros and cons the only conclusion
that I can come to is that the defeat was due to the crass stupidity
and folly of the General and his staff, who had neglected to scout or
make any reconnaissance of the so-called pah.
If you care to read an account of how two thousand seasoned British
troops plus a strong naval brigade amply supplied with artillery and
supported by the broadsides of three ships of war were defeated by one
hundred and thirty Maoris, the majority of these being youths, badly
armed with old muskets, double-barrelled guns and tomahawks, I will
give you a native version of the affair as recounted to me by one of
the few seasoned warriors who defended the place.
Tourists proceeding in the mail-coach from Tauranga to Ohinemutu may
be shown close to the road an old earthwork, and the coachdriver will
gravely inform them this is the remains of the Gate Pah; but this is
not a fact as they are the ruins of a redoubt built by the troops
subsequent to the disaster. The spot where the fight actually took
place lies close to the sea-beach on the Tauranga side of the swamp,
where the ground is comparatively level and is commanded by hills
on two sides, being bordered by the waters of the harbour and the
aforementioned swamp. And now let me try to spin you the yarn as I was
told it by my old Maori friend and quondam enemy.
I had been out ka ka and pigeon shooting in the big bush that lies
between Tauranga and Ohinemutu, my companions consisting of three
rangatera and some half-a-dozen lads to carry our swags, game, stores
etc., and at nightfall after a most successful day’s sport we had
formed a snug camp in a small open glade through which ran a clear
rippling creek. The mi-mis had been made down, we had enjoyed a
scrumptious repast, and the eyes of the whilom warriors glistened when
I produced from my swag a big bottle of rum, together with a liberal
supply of tobacco.
A tot of the former having been disposed of, the pipes being lighted,
and each old sportsman having emitted a heartfelt grunt of beatitude
and satisfaction, I turned to the senior of the party and said: “Tell
me about the fights you had with the Queen’s soldiers at Tauranga.”
“Augh! augh!” grunted the ancient, allowing a dense column of smoke
to escape through his nostrils. “The flesh of the pigeon and ka ka is
sweet, the warmth of the burning log is good, the taste of waiperou
(rum--_lit._ stinking water) and tobacco are very good, but better than
all these is war, and the next best thing is talking about it. Yes, I
will tell you of our victory and of our defeat by the soldiers of the
Great White Queen. Draw near, you boys, listen and learn, so that when
your turn comes you will know how to fight so as to sustain the honour
of the Ngaiterangi.
“More than ten years are now dead since we joined the coalition of
tribes who had lately elected the new Maori king, we doing so not
that we were so hungry to fight against the soldiers, but had we not
done so we could not have withstood the anger of the Waikato and the
other tribes who had elected him. About this time also we were visited
by prophets who preached the new Pai Marire faith, and we who had
discovered that the white missionaries were humbugs gave ear to them,
and many of us joined the Hau Haus, as they promised that we should
acquire much mana through their incantations, they also promising us
immunity from wounds and death in battle; but we soon found out that
they also were humbugs. Yes, friend, the white missionaries are humbugs
and the Hau Hau prophets are humbugs, all of them talking about
matters not to be understood even by themselves, as no two missionaries
or prophets agree on the matters they talk about. Let these men pass
you by, oh children! The best things in life are war, rum and tobacco,
these a warrior can understand.
“Pass me, my white friend, the bottle, and now I have moistened my
throat I will tell you first of all about our victory, and it is
right that I should do so, because it happened to take place before
our defeat, and it is well to speak of events in their due and proper
order, also in recounting our glory I may perchance gain courage to
tell you better about the way the soldiers took utu on the Ngaiterangi
for their brothers we had killed.
“Now it fell out in this way. News had come to us of the fighting at
Orakau and how the Taupo and Uriwera Maoris had cloaked themselves with
glory defending that pah, and we all determined to do likewise provided
the big white chief saw fit to honour us with war. Yes; true there had
been plenty of soldiers in Tauranga for a long time, but up to this
time they had remained quietly in their forts, and had not come out to
molest us, we therefore took no notice of them, but proceeded with our
peaceful avocations which at that time of the year was for the young
men fishing, and as the soldiers occupied Tauranga, our usual fishing
ground, we occupied the kainga near the sea-beach, close to the spot
you white men now call the Gate Pah. No; it was not a fighting pah.
It had no defences, nor was the position a fit one on which to build
a fighting pah. It was simply a few raupo huts surrounded by a light
fence, just strong enough to keep the pigs out from destroying the
fish we were drying on low stages, for, as you know well, friend, there
is no timber suitable for building a pah or anything else within a long
distance of the place. Besides, the nature of the ground was such that
had we built a pah there the soldiers and ships with their big guns
could have destroyed it at once.
“Now there were in the kainga one hundred and thirty Maoris, but out of
that number there were only four of us who were real warriors--_i.e._
who knew from personal experience the joys and the responsibilities
of war, the remainder were young men who had been entrusted to us to
be taught all the arts becoming to a Maori warrior, and who were at
that period learning to cure and catch fish. These young men, however,
were all rangatera (well-born gentlemen). There were no slaves with
us for it is not seemly to train rangatera with slave boys, and it so
chanced that on this occasion these youths were to be called upon to do
warriors’ work before they had received their full instructions.
“Well, my friend, the fishing was progressing, and we had already
caught, cured and sent to our homes very many loads of dried fish,
and in a few days more we should have returned to our tribe. One day,
however, we received news that some big ships with many soldiers had
reached Tauranga and that the great chief himself was coming to attack
us. This was a great honour, but we could not understand it, for the
white men must have known that where we were fishing was not a suitable
place for us to fight in, that it was only an open kainga, the taking
of which would gain the soldiers no credit. Also the big white chief
must have heard that the bulk of our tribe were at that very time
building large entrenchments at Te Ranga, which when complete would
be suitable for him to test the courage of his warriors by attacking.
Messages, however, we at once sent to our allies the Ngatiporou and
Whakatohea to come to our assistance, and they did so, but were met and
defeated at Maketu by the wild soldiers (the colonial irregulars) who
killed very many of them; but of this we knew nothing as that fight
took place on the same day as the one on which we were attacked by the
real soldiers and the Ngati Jacks (naval brigade).
“These Ngati Jacks you must understand, boys, do not belong to the
same tribes as the soldier, though they likewise fight for the Great
White Queen. They are a strange people. I who have seen them know them
well, and tell you youths to beware should you ever have the honour to
fight against them. Great is the courage of the soldiers, but also very
great is their folly, for they will walk up to an entrenchment in a
body and suffer themselves to be shot down by our fire from under the
pekerangi (outer fence of a pah), but the Ngati Jacks rush at the fence
tumultuously, leap on one another’s backs and in a breath are among
you. Then, oh my sons, your hearts must be very strong should you want
to stay and fight to the end. All the warriors of the Great White Queen
swear very much when they are fighting, but the Ngati Jacks swear the
most. Yes, my sons, they are a strange people. They have no villages,
nor do they plant nor keep cattle, but live in the bowels of the ships
in which they store much rum, salt pork and tobacco. Neither do these
men possess wives nor women, though when they come ashore it is well to
send all women and girls far away as the Ngati Jacks are very prone to
make love in a very unceremonious manner. They also roll from side to
side as they walk, drink much rum and eat tobacco.
“After we had despatched the messengers, we four warriors held a
council to decide what we should do under the circumstances. It was
plain we could offer no prolonged resistance in the kainga, yet we must
fire at least one volley in honour of it, should the great white chief
deem it worthy of attacking. Again, although its occupants were nearly
all young men and boys, still they were born rangatera, and their
honour and future reputation must not be jeopardised by retreating
without making a show of resistance, moreover we could not insult the
soldiers who had come so far to fight us by allowing them to occupy the
place without being fired at. We had, however, heard it was the custom
of the great white chief to fire many shots with his big guns before he
ordered his storming party to charge, and if he did so on this occasion
we, who were without entrenchments, must all be killed before we could
fire one volley in honour of the kainga, ourselves or the soldiers, and
our hearts grew dark with perplexity. It was then that our chief man
spoke. He had fought against the soldiers in the Waikato and his war
craft was great.
“These were his words: ‘It is true, friends, we cannot defend the
kainga against the soldiers, nor can we withstand the fire of their big
guns, but it is also necessary for the sake of our honour to remain in
the kainga and fire one volley. Come, let us do this. We can cut much
raupo and fern, and tie it to the fence so as to make it look solid
and big. The ground is soft. We will dig trenches and pits in which we
can hide from the fire of the big guns, and on that small hill we will
erect a high flagstaff. Perchance the men who fire the big guns will
mistake it for the pah, as may also the Ngati Jacks on the ships, and
by firing at it instead of at the kainga we shall escape the anger of
the big guns. Should this plan succeed enough of us may remain alive to
fire a volley at the taua and so save the honour of all concerned.’
“We saw his words were very good so we acted on them, and by working
hard all night we completed our preparations. Next day (29th April
1864) our scouts came in with the information that the soldiers were
marching out of Tauranga to attack us, and that the ships were coming
up the bay, so at once we ran and concealed ourselves in the pits and
trenches we had dug.
“Presently we saw the soldiers arrive on the high ground and in a
short time their big guns began to fire, when to our joy we at once
saw that misled by the flagstaff and flag they were aiming at the hill
on which it was erected some hundred fathoms away from the kainga. At
this our hearts grew light, for the noise of the big guns, especially
those belonging to the ships, sounded like thunder, while the hill on
which the flagstaff stood was shrouded in flame and smoke, and groaned
with the bursting of the big power-filled balls which, had they been
directed at us, must have quickly destroyed every man, so we thanked
Wai Mati for his crafty foresight. For a long time the big guns
thundered in their wrath while we lay hidden in our trenches, then they
ceased, and Wai Mati, peeping out, called to us: ‘Arise, children, the
taua is advancing, line the fence and when I give the word fire one
volley, then break and retreat through the swamp to Te Ranga.’
“We obeyed his order and when we had lined the fence we also peeped
through it and saw a long line of soldiers with a line of Ngati Jacks
in rear of them advancing to the attack. When they had reached within
twenty fathoms Wai Mati gave the word and our fire darted out through
the fence to meet them, then waiting no longer we ran to the rear of
the kainga and broke through the back fence meaning to disperse in the
raupo swamp, and each man make his way as best he might to Te Ranga.
“But as we broke through the fence for a breath we stood still with
amazement, for there drawn up in line was another strong taua of
soldiers whom the big white chief had sent round to intercept our
retreat. What were we to do? We were all rangatera and it was not
befitting to our rank to be taken prisoners, as that misfortune would
reduce us to the level of slaves. No, we must conquer, escape, or die,
and we felt justly angry with the want of consideration on the part
of the great white chief for placing us in this dilemma. There was no
time to delay, the loud shouts of the charging taua as they crashed
through the fence and entered the kainga rang in our ears, while the
intercepting soldiers were making ready to fire a volley that would
destroy us should we try to break through them. We must surrender or
die. Then out cried Wai Mati and his voice sounded clear above the
noise: ‘Back into the kainga, my children. Let us die there fighting
like rangatera with our tomahawks.’
“In a breath we turned, and every man, tomahawk in hand, rushed back
into the village, and threw himself on to the astonished soldiers who
had already occupied the place. Now happened a strange thing. Those
soldiers who had been sent to cut us off commenced firing into the
kainga, and the men working the big guns, seeing they had been misled
by the flagstaff, recommenced their fire, this time aiming at the right
spot, the ships likewise doing the same. Then truly was the mana of
the soldiers inside the kainga very evil. They had charged like brave
warriors, and having broken through the fence and having occupied the
place, they had a perfect right to think they were entitled to the
consideration of the big chief and his other tribes (regiments).
“But just at the time when they thought they had finished their work
they found themselves not only called upon to resist the desperate
charge of enemies whose sole longing was to kill and die, but also they
were subjected to the fire of their own allies and the big ships with
whom they were unaware they had any quarrel whatever. Nor had they any
time to make inquiries as to why they were subjected to such treatment.
They were falling fast by the bullets and shell of their allies and
among them raged the Maoris, who, although most of them were boys, yet
regardless of death, only tried to kill. Is it to be wondered at that
their courage turned to water and their hearts grew dark?
“The soldier is a brave man, none braver, but astonished and confused
as these warriors were after a feeble resistance they broke and fled
from the place, rushing in their flight against the Ngati Jacks, whose
formation they broke and who they carried away with them in their race
for safety. No, we did not pursue them, but jumped into our pits to
save ourselves from the fire of the big guns and the other soldiers.
The big guns and the soldiers, however, did not continue firing, many
bugles were blown, the fire ceased and to our astonishment on jumping
out of our trenches expecting another attack, we saw all the soldiers
retreating, which they continued to do although we danced a war dance,
so as to show them we were not all killed but ready to furnish them
with another fight should their big chief deem us worthy to be attacked
again. This he did not do as perchance he had by this time been
informed that ours was only a fishing kainga and not a pah worthy of
being attacked by such a redoubtable warrior, so he with all his men
returned to Tauranga, and that evening we retreated through the swamps
to Te Ranga.
“Be still, oh boy, and ask not foolish questions. It befits youth to
listen attentively to the discourse of warriors so as to acquire wisdom
and knowledge without interrupting, but I answer you this one. No; the
white rangatera did not run away when their soldiers fled. It is not
their custom to do so. Like as it is with us, a white rangatera must
conquer or die, or, if it be necessary to retreat, he must do so in a
manner befitting his own honour and the authority he holds from the
Great White Queen.
“On this occasion they did all that brave men could do to prevent
their men from running away, and when this took place those who were
left alive and unwounded faced us still, some were quickly killed or
wounded by our young men whose wakahihi (fighting madness) was roused,
before we, the trained warriors, could stop them. It is not right for
rangatera to kill rangatera. When unable to resist they remain on the
field of battle, restrained as they are by their sense of honour, nor
can you take them prisoners, so that when we forced the young men to
cease from killing, those white rangatera, who remained unwounded,
retired slowly from the kainga, some of them saluting with their
swords, which salute we returned, for this is a befitting thing to do
between rangatera, be they Maoris or white men, all brave men should
respect one another.
“Nor did we torture, nor even kill the wounded men left in the kainga,
as although we had given up the missionaries and most of us had become
Hau Haus, yet we had not adopted their ferocity. No, we made fern
mi-mis for the wounded and brought them water to drink, one of their
own officers, a Tohunga (medicine man) who was unwounded, remained with
them and attended their hurts; him also we did not molest, but when the
evening came we departed for Te Ranga much elated by our success.
“My throat is dry and my pannikin is empty, pass therefore the bottle,
my friend, and let me moisten my tongue before I tell you how we met
the soldiers again at Te Ranga, and of how they took utu from us for
their defeat.
“I have told you, my friend, that our allies were driven back at
Maketu, so we for a time worked hard to complete the very strong
entrenchments we were building at Te Ranga, and it would have been well
for us had we finished them during the time the soldiers allowed us to
do so; but on hearing the big white chief had left Tauranga we relaxed
our efforts thereby earning our punishment. For remember this, you
boys, that those tribes that during the time of peace do not prepare
for war will soon be exterminated and their home fires extinguished.
Repair therefore during the time of peace the fences of your pah,
furbish up your guns, make cartridges and sharpen your tomahawks, for
these are the suitable pursuits for a warrior to indulge in during
his days of relaxation from war. We, the Tauranga Maoris, neglected
to finish our entrenchments although they were far advanced towards
completion, and the soldiers in their courtesy allowed us ample time to
do so, but when two moons were nearly dead they lost patience with our
dilatoriness and marched out of Tauranga to attack us.
“Now the construction of our entrenchments was in this manner. Te
Ranga, oh friend, is a long ridge of a hill both sides of which are
defended by impassable swamps, so that the soldiers could not outflank
or surround us, and our retreat was open. For our defences we had dug
high up and across the ridge long lines of rifle pits. This was done
in a very crafty way. Each pit would hold ten men, or perhaps twelve,
they were dug deep though narrow, so that if the soldiers saw fit to
bring their big guns, by crouching down we should be safe from their
fire; also the rear lines of pits commanded those in front of it, so
that, if driven out of one line, we could still hold the others.
“Now it had been our intention to erect fences in front of each line
of rifle pits, so as to delay the rush of the soldiers should they
charge us, and also to construct covered ways through which we could
retreat with safety from one line to another; but this part of the
work had not been done, although the lines of pits themselves were all
completed. Two moons were nearly dead since our victory, when we heard
that the soldiers under another war chief (Colonel Greer) were marching
to attack us, and at the council held on receipt of this news each man
blamed the other for our dilatoriness in not finishing our defences,
but the time to do so was past. Nor could we blame the soldiers, the
fault was ours, and we had to make the best of it. Wrangling amongst
ourselves was no good, the soldiers were here, we must man the rifle
pits and fight as best we could; even without the fences our position
was a very strong one.
“Having plenty of time before us, as from our elevated position we
could see the approaching soldiers still a long way off, we danced a
war dance suitable for the occasion, and the Hau Hau prophets performed
their incantations promising us victory with immunity from wounds
and death, which promise made our hearts light, for, although no
warrior fears death, yet it is as well to live as long as possible, as
perchance some portion of the missionaries’ talk may be true and no man
wishes to be burnt for ever. No, it is too long a time to be passed in
that manner.
“But oh, my white friend, the Hau Hau prophets were humbugs and liars,
or knew not their art perfectly, as wounds and death were the lot of
the Maoris that day. Give me the bottle, oh friend, it makes me athirst
with anger to think of the lies of those Hau Hau prophets, and my old
wounds ache and burn again when I talk of them. Augh! I feel better, I
will continue. Our war dance and incantations being over it was time to
man the rifle pits, which we did full of confidence and hope. I myself
was placed in one of the advanced pits, that the soldiers must first
attack, and in the same pit were ten other Ngaiterangi, all of us being
tried warriors of acknowledged courage and repute.
“Our orders were not to fire a shot until the senior war chief gave
the word, and then to fire all together, those of us having tuparas
(double-barrelled guns) being ordered not to fire the second shot until
the smoke cleared away and then only to do so on receipt of the order,
by doing this we thought that the men armed with muskets would gain
time to cast about and reload, and this order was impressed on every
man.
“Situated where I was I had a good sight of the advancing soldiers who
came in the order of two fish [Maori term for two columns of fours],
but as they drew nearer they deployed into line, when for a brief space
of time they halted, then with a rattle and flash they drew their long
thin knives and fixed them on their muskets. This was done by all of
them at the same breath, and the sight was a very fine one, but somehow
my heart darkened, and for the space of three breaths my blood seemed
to turn to icy cold water. They did not remain halted long, their chief
spoke a few words to them and they uttered three loud shouts, then
raising their rifles from the ground they moved on towards us, the sun
flashing and playing on their long knives like it does on rippling
waters.
“As they approached closer I could see their faces and the faces of
the rangatera who led them, and I could see that each face carried on
it a look of fierce determination quite different from the usual look
of joyous excitement that is so becoming to a brave warrior when he
advances to earn honour and renown in the glorious game of war.
“No, they had danced no war dance to excite their courage, nor had they
indulged in incantations to save themselves from wounds or death, but
they looked like men who, having a hard task before them, meant to see
it through. They had come to exact utu and they received it.
“Well, friend, the soldiers advanced in the most perfect order, and,
when about fifty fathoms or less from us, at the sound of a bugle,
began to run, not tumultuously, but each man in his place, while we
looked along the barrels of our muskets, and with beating hearts
awaited the order to fire. This at last came and the thunder of our
volley rumbled among the hills, but it was at that same moment the
Atua (God or spirit) of the soldiers stood by and protected them. It
happened in this way: about ten fathoms in front of our advanced line
of rifle pits there was a natural declivity in the ground, the sides
of which sloped gently, though the depth of it was perhaps four feet,
and just as we received the order and fired the volley, the soldiers
stepped into this declivity, so that our storm of bullets, instead of
strewing the ground with dead and wounded men, went howling over their
heads and injured not one of them. Oh, but the mana of the soldiers was
very strong that day. We had no time to reload, nor even had the men
with tuparas time to fire their second shot, for with the roar of a
mighty wave bursting over a sunken reef, a long line of soldiers rushed
through the smoke and flung themselves on us.
“Oh, ye boys, whose fathers all fell at Te Ranga, and who, with us few
who survived, had among ourselves derided the fighting power of the
soldiers, take heed and remember my word to you. If at war with the
soldiers fight them in the bush or keep behind the strong fences of
your pahs, but never, my children, let the soldiers of the Great White
Queen, when they have fixed their long knives on their muskets, get so
near to you as to fight chest to chest, for if you do so, your wives
will soon become widows and your children orphans.
“Yes, oh friend, without a pause those white soldiers flung themselves
upon us, their long knives stabbing deep, so that we fell like children
before the fire of their wrath. I, as I have before related, had been
posted in the advance line of pits, and having fired my musket was
trying to reload it when the soldiers burst through the smoke, but
before I could handle a cartridge, a white rangatera sprang on me, nor
did he come ceremoniously, for he came head first, which may be the
custom of the white rangatera so to do when charging an enemy, for in
the act of coming he ran me through the shoulder with his sword and we
both fell to the bottom of the trench.
“Here I might have gained the mastery, for he was quite a youth, but
before my strength could prevail or my friends help me, his men poured
in on us, they likewise coming unceremoniously, for with many curses
one drove his long knife through my breast while another struck me on
the head with the butt of his musket, which made me see many stars,
and I fell in a corner of the trench with my head swimming and unable
to move hand or foot but still conscious, though the soldiers thinking
I was dead left me alone, and turned to kill my friends in the pit.
This they did very expeditiously, for although the Maoris fought with
the greatest courage still they could not withstand the anger of
the soldiers who had come to take utu for their past defeat. Again,
circumstanced as we were, we could not retreat, for as our men tried
to scramble out of the pits, which were deep, those soldiers who had
not jumped in on top of us slew them, and the slaughter was very great,
while those soldiers, being placed opposite to the open spaces between
the pits, finding no Maoris to kill there, rushed on without a pause
and threw themselves into the second line of trenches, where they slew
and slew, for, although the Maoris who held the trenches did all that
brave warriors could do, still none of us on that day could withstand
the impetuous rush of the white men, who did not pause to fire but just
charged on with their long knives.
“Augh! I grow thirsty again talking of that disastrous day. The bottle,
friend; perchance the rum may lighten my heart. Now I will finish my
long story.
“Soon the fight was over and the few Maoris who escaped the fury of the
soldiers had fled away into the swamp and bush. Now the white men had
time to come back to examine the dead and assist the wounded Maoris,
for it is the custom of the soldiers, fighting being over, to try and
cure the men whom just previously they had been doing their best to
kill. This, my sons, is a right and wise thing for them to do, for the
Great White Queen has so many soldiers that should all of them fighting
in this country be killed, still she has plenty more to send, whereas
we Maoris are so few that we miss sadly every man lost, so that unless
the wounded be made whole and the women and children protected it would
soon come to pass that there would be no more Maoris left to fight, nor
anyone to take their place to test the soldiers’ courage and train them
for war. This being so the white officers are very careful to repair
the hurts of wounded Maoris.
“Presently a party of soldiers came to the trench in which I lay, and
finding that I was the only one there to whom life still clung they
lifted me carefully out and bore me on a blanket to their medicine-man,
who bandaged my wounds, and after many weeks I was made whole. This
was the last fight I had with the white man. No, I did not join Te
Kooti, nor did I fight against you, my friend, up at Taupo, for I
remained in my kainga, my wounds giving me much trouble. And now, my
friend, I have told you all things and will again moisten my throat
with the good rum.
“And oh, you boys, this is my word to you: think not of utu against
the white men for the slaying of your fathers; the war is past, the
soldiers have gone, and we now are all children of the Great White
Queen. We must be friends with the white settlers, and, like them,
obedient to the Queen’s law, and perchance when you boys are full-grown
she, when she sends her soldiers to war, may in her great kindness
remember that she has brown children as well as white, and she may
send and say: ‘Come, ye Maoris, and fight my battles for me beside my
white soldiers.’ Augh! that will be great honour, for perchance in
those days many descendants of Maori warriors will charge side by side
with the White Queen’s soldiers. Yes, and perchance the spirits of
your ancestors may be permitted to see those of their blood cut their
way deeper into the ranks of the White Queen’s enemies than even the
soldiers can go. Stand up, you boys, raise your tomahawks on high and
cry with loud voices: ‘Hip, hip, hip, hurrah for Queen Wikitoria.’ No,
hold not out your pannikins; rum befits old warriors, not boys. You
shall shout for her and perchance may fight for her; I who am old will
drink her health. But what is this? Lo, I can see two bottles, two
white friends and many Maori boys. Surely this is caused by eating too
freely the flesh of pigeons, or talking of my old wounds makes my head
go round, or perchance it is witchcraft. It is meet for me to retire to
rest, as the whole earth and stars spin round. I spin also. God bless
Queen Wikitoria. The bottle is empty, but Kiora, Kiora, Kiora.”
And the old warrior, chock-full of rum and loyalty, tried to get up,
but pitched head first on his soft bed of fern, where the rising
generation of Ngaiterangi carefully covered him up with blankets and he
slept the sleep of the brave and just.
Now the trouble caused by the defeat at the Gate Pah did not end when
the troops retreated to Tauranga, for recriminations, charges and
countercharges flew like hail, while the New Zealand press wrote the
usual twaddle that ignorant editors generally do write on matters of
war; but there was one paper in Auckland that went too far, as it
accused the Naval Brigade of cowardice, an accusation as untrue as it
was unjust, and the gallant Ngati Jacks swore they would take utu.
Now the Ngati Jacks were not given to writing to the newspapers or any
tommy-rot of that sort. They were men of action; they would right their
own wrongs and teach the miserable ink-slinging stool-polisher decorum
in their own way. They had lost a number of officers and shipmates, and
it was through no fault of theirs that, after the Tommies had fallen
back, they had not been allowed to take the place and finish up the job
ship-shape and Bristol fashion.
Well, a short time after the disaster the ships anchored in Auckland
Harbour, and in due course of time liberty was given to one watch
from each ship to go on shore; and no sooner had they landed than
some five hundred of them paraded of their own accord, and marched
quietly through the streets of Auckland until they came to the one
in which the newspaper office was located. Nor had they come without
suitable arguments, for they had brought with them a huge hawser and
two gigantic snatch-blocks. Now the editor’s house and office were,
like all the other buildings in Auckland, constructed of wood. It was
an imposing two-storeyed edifice, and on the bluejackets reaching it
they quietly placed strong pickets at both ends of the street, made
fast the blocks to old cannons sunk into the ground, passed the hawser
through the editor’s upper windows, and then, with one hundred men
tailing on at each end of the bit of string, delivered their protest
and ultimatum. The latter was short, sweet and significant. Either the
editor must print at once an ample apology and own up he had lied, or
down would come his whole bag of tricks.
There was no time given for palaver; there was the hawser, there Jack
stood in orderly array, there stood the bos’n’s mates, whistle to
lip, and the thoroughly cowed editor caved in at once. Orders were
quickly given, and the smartest piece of type-setting and printing
ever accomplished in New Zealand was carried out. Soon sheafs of paper
bills, still wet from the press, were handed out and showered from
the windows, and then the Ngati Jacks, having received the _amende
honorable_, withdrew the hawser, and, thoroughly satisfied with the
utu they had obtained, retired themselves to more convivial pursuits,
while the still trembling editor recorded a solemn oath that for
the future he would curb his poetic licence, at least so far as her
Majesty’s navy was concerned.
[Illustration: KEREOPA.]
CHAPTER II
TE KOOTI
And now I must tell you something about that bounder, Te Kooti.
Every country in the world has at some time or other produced
diabolically cruel villains who, under one cloak or another, religion
for choice, have perpetrated horrible excesses and gratified their love
for blood. Yet very often these men have been great and brainy ones.
Europe has produced Tilly, Alva, Torquemada, Cæsar Borgia, and many
others. England has produced Cromwell and Judge Jeffreys; India, Nana
Sahib; and New Zealand in like manner produced Te Kooti. Some of these
men were of aristocratic birth, but others, such as Tilly, Cromwell
and Te Kooti, springing from the lower middle class, had first to make
their names before they could perpetrate the crimes their souls lusted
for.
A number of Maori prisoners had been taken in the successful action at
Waerenga-a-Hika, which followed upon the atrocious murder of the Rev.
Mr Volkner by the Hau Haus.
Now these prisoners should either have been killed or, at all events,
should have been well taken care of, as on two previous occasions Maori
prisoners had successfully made daring escapes, one of which is worth
recording.
About one hundred and fifty Maoris, prisoners of war, among whom were
a few women and children, had been confined on board an old timber ship
anchored far out in Wellington Harbour. They were well fed, kindly
treated, and seemed well satisfied with their lot, being allowed access
to the upper deck during the day, where they talked and laughed with
their guard, a detachment of the 50th Regiment, while during the night
they had comfortable quarters on the lower deck, all the hatchways
being shut up and strictly guarded.
The old bow-port of the ship, however, had been forgotten or
overlooked, and one very dark, stormy night the Maoris, who had
discovered it, forced it open, when every man, woman and child slid
noiselessly into the rough, shark-infested water, and swam for the
shore, nearly two miles distant, where most of them landed in safety
and disappeared into the bush, nor was their escape found out till next
morning when the hatches were opened to serve out breakfast.
The New Zealand Government therefore determined to place the prisoners
taken at Waerenga-a-Hika in a place from which they could not swim
ashore, and so deported two hundred of them to the Chatham Islands,
but, being of a frugal mind, they committed these two hundred
fanatical, ferocious and able-bodied warriors to the care of a worn-out
old officer and fifteen decrepit invalided veterans, nor did they
consider it worth the expense to arm the white settlers on the island.
Verily the Government were wanting in common-sense, though their
cheese-paring parsimony might be worthy of a present-date Radical.
Now during the siege of Waerenga-a-Hika a native belonging to the
native contingent, named Te Kooti, had been charged by a sub-chief
with holding treasonable intercourse with the enemy. He had been made
a prisoner, but as there was no evidence against him he was shortly
afterwards released. Subsequent to the surrender of the pah, Te Kooti
was again charged, this time by a white settler, with communicating
with the enemy, but again there was not sufficient evidence to bring
him to a trial.
The great fighting chief Rapata had, however, a private grievance
against him, and wished to kill him out of hand, but this the
Government would not allow, an act of very short-sighted policy, as
it turned out to be on their part. They, however, feared to offend
Rapata, so they transported Te Kooti to the Chatham Islands with the
two hundred Hau Hau prisoners. Now this was a piece of gross injustice.
There had not been sufficient evidence to try him on any charge, and
most certainly the Government had no right to transport a man, serving
as a soldier, who had never even been tried, much less convicted.
Te Kooti was at this time a strong, daring fellow, some thirty
years old, who had, fighting against the Hau Haus, acquired a small
reputation for courage, but he was much disliked by the white settlers,
who knew him to be a thief; nor was he respected by his own people,
who regarded him as a quarrelsome _mauvais sujet_ whose room was more
valuable than his company. He was a man of no rank by birth, nor had he
exhibited any signs of intellect likely to raise him out of the ruck
of his fellows. As to whether or not he deserved punishment may be open
to argument, but there is no doubt that all the atrocities committed
by himself, or by his orders, were dictated by a desire of obtaining
utu on those responsible for his deportation. Well, this fellow was
deported with the other prisoners and landed in the Chatham Islands.
Here Te Kooti took up the somewhat dangerous rôle of a prophet, and
so worked on the superstitions of his fanatical companions that they
rendered him unquestioned obedience.
It must not be imagined that the prisoners were shut up in jail or
confined in any way; they were made comfortable and lived in huts.
The burlesque guard during the night inhabited a tiny, toy sand fort
in which the arms and ammunition were kept, but during the day the
fort was left in charge of one of their number, the remainder being
scattered over the place, employed as ration issuers, clerks, etc.
The prisoners had been landed on the Chatham Island in December 1865,
and from the day of their landing till the 4th of July 1868 their
conduct had been exemplary, though there can be no doubt that during
all this time Te Kooti was forming his plans, and with infinite
patience was awaiting a suitable opportunity for a successful attempt
to escape.
On the 3rd of July 1868 the three-masted schooner, _Rifleman_, was
sighted making for the island, loaded with stores for the use of
the convicts, a boat-load of whom pulled off and assisted the crew
of the vessel to bring her to her anchorage, also volunteering to
help discharging cargo. Captain Thomas, the officer in charge of the
prisoners, had been previously warned that there was mischief brewing,
but the dear old soul did not believe it, or at all events took no
steps to prevent the rising, which took place after this fashion.
In accordance with custom one of the old images who composed the guard
was on duty in the toy fort, the remainder being scattered apart at
their usual occupations, and as he pottered about he saw a strong body
of the prisoners approaching him and at once demanded their business.
They replied that they wanted the arms and ammunition which were stored
in the fort. He answered they should not get them. They rushed him. He
was a good old soldier though past work, and, promptly shooting one,
tried to use his bayonet, but was immediately knocked down, his rifle
wrenched out of his hand, and he finished his service by being run
through and killed with his own bayonet. Truly the brave old fellow
deserved a better fate.
Te Kooti, however, must not be blamed for his death, as he had given
strict orders no one was to be hurt, and this was the only blood spilt
during the whole affair. The Maoris also behaved with the greatest
courtesy to the white settlers, depriving them of nothing except such
guns and weapons as they had in their possession. No sooner had the
prisoners received the arms than a boat-load of them pulled off to
the _Rifleman_, boarded her, and drove the mate and crew (the captain
was ashore) down below, threatening to kill anyone who resisted.
They also boarded the ketch, _Florence_, which chanced to be lying at
anchor, sent her crew ashore, and then, cutting the cable, sent their
vessel after them so as to prevent her being used in any way against
them.
[Illustration: TE KOOTI.]
Te Kooti had now full possession of the island, but he did not linger,
as he at once embarked all the prisoners, he being the last man to
leave the shore. Directly he put foot on board he summoned the crew on
deck and gave them the option of either working the schooner to Poverty
Bay, where he promised to hand her back to them, or to be immediately
killed. They chose the former alternative and at once made sail, but
a strong wind from the west prevented them from beating out, so they
had to return to their former anchorage. Te Kooti took no chances, for
as soon as the sails were furled he again confined the crew below,
nor would he allow them to cook the food either then or on any other
occasion during the voyage.
Next day they again made sail and got away from the island, but being
delayed by foul winds Te Kooti ordered all the greenstone ornaments on
board to be thrown into the sea as a propitiatory sacrifice to Tangaroa
(the Maori Neptune), and as this had no beneficial result Te Kooti
ordered an old man, a relation of his own, to be cast into the drink,
and this, notwithstanding the old fellow’s objections, was done, no one
supporting nor even seconding his amendment, as it had been given out
he was the delinquent who had warned Captain Thomas of the projected
rising. Whether the victim was a Jonah or not, who can say, but it is
certain that no sooner had the poor old sinner been launched over the
lee-rail than the wind changed, so, easing sheets, they made a good
landfall at Whare-onga-onga, about fifteen miles south of the Poverty
Bay settlement.
On the following day, the 10th of July, and during the whole of that
night, the Maoris working like beavers, they landed some forty tons
of stores, about fifty rifles and a number of other weapons, then
releasing the crew Te Kooti told them to upsail and hook it. This they
did, but the mate perpetrated a gross act of folly. The Port of Napier
was close to him, but instead of making for it he set his course for
Wellington, and thereby lost ten days in giving the alarm.
In the meantime Te Kooti had taken up a strong position near where he
had landed, and sent messengers to the adjoining tribe to come and
tangi with him. These messages fell into the hands of Major Biggs, who
could not at first believe the news, but on its confirmation mustered a
force of one hundred badly armed white settlers and friendly natives,
and marched against the escaped convicts. He found them strongly
posted, but as the friendlies refused to attack he could do nothing. He
therefore attempted to parley, trying to persuade the defiant natives
to lay down their arms, but this they refused to do, and retreated
inland, carrying their plunder with them to one of the most broken
patches of country in New Zealand.
Now during the Year of the Lamb 1867 the infatuated New Zealand
Government, longing for peace, had made up their minds they had
obtained it, and, being crazy for retrenchment, had not only disbanded
the Defence Force but, so as to save the expense of having a man to
look after them, had removed the bulk of the arms and ammunition
from the district. Major Biggs was therefore severely handicapped
as the only men he had to depend upon were badly armed settlers and
untrustworthy semi-friendly natives.
Owing to these circumstances Te Kooti got the best of it in the
desultory fighting that took place, defeating the white men and their
allies at Paparatu, while he shortly afterwards forced another column
to fall back through their running out of ammunition and the desertion
of the friendlies, so that his name spread through the country as a
chief with a most powerful mana.
Colonel Whitmore, who in the meantime hurried up from Napier, followed
up Te Kooti, but with his usual want of tact so disgusted the Poverty
Bay volunteers that they refused to leave their own district, and
Te Kooti continued to make headway, beating back an attack made on
his position at Te Konaki, and also getting much the best of it in a
stiff fight at Ruaki Ture. In September Colonel Whitmore left for the
west coast, where he was beaten, as I have previously described, by
Titokowaru at Moturoa, and Te Kooti, on the 9th of November, surprised
and sacked the white settlement of Poverty Bay, where he murdered in
a most atrocious manner every woman and child he could lay his hands
on. Loaded with plunder he left the devastated settlement on the 14th,
and retired slowly to his lair, his rear-guard being overtaken and
attacked at Makaretu on the 25th, but the Hau Haus made a good stand,
and although they lost heavily they held their ground, Te Kooti at the
same time by a smart bit of generalship capturing an important convoy
of ammunition and stores.
But a change was to come over the scene, for Rapata, with a party of
Ngatiporou, arrived at Makaretu, and on 3rd December he, with his men,
by a rattling charge carried two of the enemy’s outworks, driving them
back to their last line of trenches, which they deemed impregnable,
but the gallant chief proved it otherwise, for he at once rushed them,
and with the assistance of the other friendlies, who on this occasion
fought bravely, drove out the Hau Haus with great slaughter, killing
several of Te Kooti’s best fighting chiefs; and they also captured the
infernal villain Nama, who had been most active in torturing women and
children at the late massacre. Well they got this fellow alive, and so
as to try to even things up a bit the Ngatiporou roasted him alive, and
“sarve him right” was the verdict given by the colonial troops, for
after the Poverty Bay massacre the gloves came off and it was war to
the knife.
Te Kooti now fell back, having only escaped by the skin of his teeth,
to his famous stronghold Ngatapa, and Rapata moved forward to attack
him, but unfortunately a quarrel about some prisoners with his allies
hampered him sorely, and although he attacked with the Ngatiporou he
had to fall back for want of ammunition, his allies rendering him no
service whatever; he therefore, furious and disgusted, retired towards
Tauranga.
I think I have now given you some vague idea of what had happened on
the east coast previous to our accompanying Colonel Whitmore there,
although I have not mentioned scores of skirmishes that had taken place
with the various tribes during the last four years up and down the
coast.
CHAPTER III
NGATAPA
I think I may now trek on with my own adventures.
We landed at Tauranga in December 1868, and Colonel Whitmore at once
started off to make Te Kooti sit up, taking with him three hundred
well-trained and seasoned men. Near a place called Patutahi we met
Rapata and his men returning to Tauranga, and Colonel Whitmore did his
best to persuade the angry chief to turn back, but this he refused to
do, saying: “I never break my word. I have said I would go to Waiapu
and I will, but I will return with more Ngatiporou and wipe out the
Ngatikahungunu, the cowardly dogs who deserted me.”
This would have meant wheels within wheels, or rather a civil war
within a civil war, a regular Donnybrook, and it was only after much
talk that the indignant warrior could be persuaded to forgo his
vengeance against the other friendlies, though he sternly refused to
fight again in their company or to alter his determination to proceed
to Waiapu, so, a steamer having been placed at his disposal, he
departed to his home, promising to recruit more of his own tribe and to
return shortly. It was on this occasion I first met this redoubtable
warrior and general, when, like all other men who love a man, I greatly
admired him.
Rapata Te Wahawaha had from the outbreak of the East Coast War played
a very prominent part, and, one may truthfully say, had carved out
in more ways than one his own path to rank and fame. He was a fine,
handsome, athletic-looking man, evidently capable of enduring great
hardships and fatigue, while you only had to look at his face to see
that he had an iron will, the courage of a bulldog and the ability to
command. When in repose he had all the good manners, the courteous
bearing and the musical voice of a well-bred Maori, but in action the
eyes blazed, the whole face hardened into a mask of granite, while his
word of command was given in a voice that few who served under him
cared or dared hesitate to obey.
Although of aristocratic birth, he was not a great chief by descent,
nor had he up to the commencement of the war given any proof of
possessing any first-rate administrative qualities, or possibly in his
paternal sub-tribe he had no chance of displaying them, but from the
first fight, Mangaone, in which his tribe took part, he displayed such
indomitable courage and resource that by the time I met him he was not
only the principal war chief, but was looked upon as quite the most
prominent man in the great and powerful tribe of Ngatiporou to which
his hereditary sept belonged. He had from the very first set his face
sternly against the new faith.
The inhabitants of village after village, mission station after mission
station, throwing away their Christianity, had joined the Hau Haus,
but when the apostles came to Rapata’s sub-tribe he sternly bade them
be gone, or he would test their invulnerability with his tomahawk.
Now several of the sub-tribes of the Ngatiporou had already perverted,
and some of these sought to convert Rapata by force. Rapata, however,
was taking none of that, so he waltzed out of his pah, and in the
faction fight that ensued he fairly knocked the stuffing out of the
Nonconformists, and as a proof of his determination not to stand any
nonsense he shot, with his own hand, a near relation who had been taken
prisoner, not, as he was careful to explain to the delinquent, because
he had fought against himself, but because he had been such a fool as
to join the Hau Haus against his, Rapata’s, orders. He was the sealed
pattern of the old-time Maori warrior, one who knew not fear or pity,
and was just as ready to join in a hand-to-hand fight as to plan out
a campaign or eat his dinner. Byron, singing about an old-time Dago
pirate, described him as being the mildest-tempered man who ever cut a
throat or scuttled ship.
Rapata was a polished Maori gentleman who with a polite and easy
nonchalance could entertain the highest colonial dignitary, tomahawk
a Hau Hau, or shoot a deserter with his own rifle. He was indeed a
worthy ally, for had he not made the firm stand he did the whole of
the powerful tribe of Ngatiporou would have been thrown in the balance
against us, and the white man must for a time have been driven out of
the North Island of New Zealand. And now let me break back and try to
regain my spoor.
The following morning Rapata departed, still in high dudgeon, and the
Colonel, selecting four scouts, sent them to find out whether or not
Ngatapa had been deserted, although why Te Kooti should have deserted
it was beyond my wisdom. The men he selected for the work, although
good enough fighting men, were not trained scouts, nor had they ever
been employed at that fascinating though dangerous game before.
However, off they went while we rested in camp.
That afternoon, while lolling on my mi-mi with Roach, I heard a voice
hail Tim, who was making ready our supper: “Here, Tim, old shipmate,
where’s the skipper? Lay us alongside of him, me hearty.” And in two
skips of a jumping cat I found my hand enveloped and crushed in the
enormous fist of old Jack Williams, while a moment afterwards Pierre de
Feugeron and Kantuarius were salaaming in front of us, Pierre showing
his white teeth, shrugging his shoulders and gesticulating as only a
Southern Frenchman can, while the Greek expressed his satisfaction
at meeting Roach and myself again by jabbering and grinning like a
demented Cheshire cat. They had come to the east coast with McDonnell
in 1867, and had remained there, Jack in charge of a boat, the other
two doing odd jobs in scouting.
The foreigners at once attached themselves to us, but old Jack had to
return that evening to Tauranga, so that after his oaths of gladness at
meeting us had rolled away like summer thunder he drank a tot out of my
flask, forced me to accept a big prick of naval tobacco, and drifted
away, swearing softly, to join his party.
“Et maintenant, messieurs,” quoth Pierre, “I will do myself ze honour
of taking charge of messieurs’ cuisine.”
“But, Pierre,” I said, “where is the famous _batterie_?”
“Ah, monsieur, ze brave pot, ze poor pot; ah, monsieur, such
misfortune, my magnificent pot lies mort sur le champ de battaille. Ah,
monsieur, it was heart-rending. George and myself were retreating, and
the sacred savages were coming fast behind us, but we cleared them,
when les enfants d’enfer, seeing us escape, fired a volley, plom I fall
on my face. George help me to rise. I am not killed nor much hurt, but
my pot, my dear pot lies in pieces. I am distressed. I am enraged.
Revenge. I yearn for revenge. I drop on ze knee and fire. Ah! Ah! I see
one of ze canaille throw his arms on high and fall. I have my revenge.
I say, ‘Vive la France!’ George say, ‘Damn good shot. Come, let’s cut
and run,’ and we cut and run. So, mon officier, ze grand pot est mort,
mais Pierre remains at monsieur’s service and has ze wherewithal to
prepare ze dinner for his two officers. Let messieurs remain tranquil.
We shall see.”
Messieurs remained tranquil, and in good time, instead of supping off
the putrid pork and mouldy biscuits Tim had been fumbling over, we
enjoyed a delicious ragout of fowls, fresh pork, potatoes and the Lord
only knows what else. It is well for you, oh, my son, when on active
service two scallywag foreigners, past masters in the art of looting,
and owning not one ghostly idea of _meum_ and _tuum_, attach themselves
to you and take upon themselves the onerous duty of catering for your
table. Be not inquisitive, oh, my son; ask no questions, but accept the
luck Providence sends you and you will fare sumptuously.
In due course of time the scouts returned and reported that Te Kooti
had abandoned Ngatapa. They had not approached the place closely, but
said he had done so, because they had seen large volumes of smoke, and
thought Te Kooti was burning his huts before leaving.
Now this was all tommy-rot, and I marvelled at a smart soldier
listening to such twaddle. In the first place a Maori does not build a
hut to burn it down. Again, we had heard from Rapata that the position
of Ngatapa was one of extraordinary strength. Te Kooti had expended an
immense amount of labour in fortifying it. He had successfully defended
it against the first attack. Why, therefore, should he desert it? No,
it seemed to me that it would be far more probable that the dense smoke
the tenderfoot scouts had seen was caused by the Hau Haus clearing
ground in front of their works so as to destroy cover, especially as
dry fern and raupo, commonly used by the natives for thatch, burns with
but little vapour, while undergrowth and timber, full of sap, burns
with a great deal, and was therefore far more likely to be the fuel
causing the great clouds of smoke reported by the scouts.
Now I happened to be present at the time the scouts reported to the
Colonel, and, when they had finished their yarn, ventured to state my
opinions, at the same time offering to take Pierre and George, scout up
to the place, and verify my theories.
It would have been better for me had I held my tongue, for I received
in reply a most stinging rebuke, which was both unjust and unmerited.
It is true a colonel may not be desirous of receiving advice or
suggestions from a subaltern, still I had been employed on many
important occasions and had earned a reputation as a scout, and, as he
well knew, had put in three years’ hard bush training, so even if it
were presumption on my part to make a suggestion, still that suggestion
was worth while taking into consideration, if not acting upon,
especially as I offered to run the risk, which was by no means a small
one.
Anyhow, the Colonel chose to give me a most unmerciful slating for
what he was pleased to term my impertinence, and also added some most
caustic remarks on my general utility, and these in such a sarcastic
and bitter tone that it was only my strict sense of discipline that
prevented me using the whip I carried in my hand over his hide, and I
was greatly delighted when I met him years afterwards, when we were
both civilians, to be able to give him my plain and unvarnished opinion
of his conduct both as an officer and a gentleman.
However, to return to our mutton; orders were immediately given for
our return to Tauranga, which were promptly carried out, and Colonel
Whitmore made arrangements to re-embark us forthwith to Wanganui; in
fact No. 6 Division of the Armed Constabulary was already shipped on
board the _Sturt_ for the west coast, but by the merciful dispensation
of Providence the skipper was absent, and the old tub, objecting to the
officer temporarily in charge, sat down on a rock, which, knocking a
hole in her bottom, necessitated the relanding of the men.
Now my theory _re_ the smoke had been perfectly correct. It had been
caused by the Hau Haus burning the scrub so as to destroy cover, and Te
Kooti, informed by his scouts of our retreat from Patutahi, seized the
opportunity to make one of his lightning raids, in which he murdered
several settlers, and did much damage.
On the receipt of this news the little Colonel went hopping mad, and
without losing a moment we started off to intercept Te Kooti’s retreat,
but as it was impossible for the main body to move before morning he
despatched Captain Newland and a party of sixteen troopers on ahead.
Had he given us fifty troopers, which he very well could have done, we
should have hived the artful dodger then and there, as we cut his line
of retreat and did all men could do to hold him till the arrival of the
Colonel, but eighteen mounted men, no matter how good they are, cannot
hold two hundred Maoris, especially in rough country. We however did
the best we could, and had the ground been anywhere suitable we should
have charged; as it was we had to draw off through the long fern, and
it was only the skill of our captain, the cool pluck of our men, and
the rotten bad shooting of the Hau Haus that saved us from being cut to
pieces.
We had, however, been driven off the ground when Colonel Whitmore came
up with Te Kooti’s rear-guard and attacked them, but as his men were
worn out by their long forced march over very rough country, he failed
to make any impression, so Te Kooti succeeded in gaining Ngatapa,
having got nine to four the best of us.
The advance, however, had begun in earnest, and at the end of the third
day, the 27th of December, we took up our position on a high ridge
about a mile distant from the Hau Haus’ stronghold. Here the Colonel
received news that Rapata, with three hundred and seventy men, had
landed, but refused to join up. This was a lie, for the gallant chief
was coming on as fast as he could. It was, however, too good a chance
for the spiteful little devil to miss of insulting our most faithful
ally, and he despatched message after message of such a nature that the
high-spirited Maori would not tolerate them, the last one being that if
Rapata did not hurry up he would take the place himself.
On receipt of this chit Rapata immediately halted his men and returned
this reply: “It is well. I have tried to take it once and failed; it is
your turn now. I will camp here and await your success.”
This brought the Colonel to his bearings, and he saw he had gone too
far, especially as some of the senior officers plainly pointed out to
him that if he continued to try and bounce Rapata, that chief would
return insolence for insolence, and that a quarrel with their great
fighting chief would be looked upon by the Ngatiporou as a direct
insult to the tribe.
Now Whitmore was a splendid soldier and no fool, notwithstanding his
nasty manner and want of tact, he therefore, seeing he had gone too
far, visited Rapata the next day.
“Have you taken the place?” queried the chief.
“No,” replied the Colonel, “I want you to help me.”
“I will be with you to-morrow morning,” responded Rapata, and the
interview terminated.
The Ngatiporou at once broke camp and advanced, making a short halt
at the Wharekopai River, where, to see that everything was all right,
they danced a gaudy war dance, and as no one tumbled down during the
ceremony the tribal tohunga and prophet declared that everything was
all right and that the expedition would be successful. Thoroughly
satisfied with this propitious announcement, and perhaps more so with
themselves, they pushed on rapidly and joined up the same night.
The position of Ngatapa was by nature a very strong one, a high conical
peak rising abruptly amidst heavily bushed hills, the face fronting our
camp sloping gradually up to the summit, but the sides of the slope,
although surmountable in some places, were not so in others, especially
in one place, where it was so precipitous as to be quite unnegotiable,
the side of the hill having slipped away, leaving a perpendicular
precipice of rock quite seventy feet high, and this was the spot where
the enemy eventually escaped. The ground in rear of the pah narrowed
into a razor-backed indented ridge, the formation of which was gigantic
steps, only to be descended by rope ladders, and down the ridge ran a
path by which the Hau Haus hoped to escape, if driven to do so, but the
path was at once blocked by our men, although for the time being we did
not make use of it as a way to attack.
The front slope of the position, in fact the only one possible to
march up, was defended by three lines of stoutly built earthworks with
ditches in front of them and trenches in rear of them in which the
defenders could take cover. Their flanks resting on the precipitous
sides of the slope prevented them from being turned, while every
particle of cover in front of them had been scarped away. The two lower
parapets were over seven feet high, but the upper one was at least
fourteen feet, being pierced with sand-bagged loopholes, and was indeed
a most formidable work.
All these lines were connected by covered ways, and altogether it was
what it looked, a most imposing fortification with its parapets rising
one above the other on the steep slope and growing narrower as the
ridge contracted. Yes, imposing it looked, in fact impregnable, or only
to be taken with an immense loss of life, but it had, like most Maori
pahs, one sad defect, it contained no water. This would have been no
drawback in old-time Maori warfare, as it had never been the custom of
the chivalrous sportsmen-like savages to prevent the women from leaving
a besieged pah for the purpose of obtaining food and water. “For,” said
the old-time cannibal warrior, “how can a man’s heart be strong, and
how can he fight well, should he be famished for want of sustenance?”
Civilised white men, however, use hunger and thirst as two of their
most formidable weapons, and did so even during the most chivalrous
epochs--to wit, the siege of Calais--by that mirror of chivalry, Edward
III., or, coming to modern times--viz. the siege of Paris--by the
gospel-quoting, long-prayer-making German Emperor. How then could Te
Kooti expect more consideration from that chip of the devil, Whitmore,
and this was the weak joint in his armour.
At daybreak on the last day of the year 1868 we broke camp, and the
whole force, by this time considerably augmented, took up a position
on a conical hill some seven hundred yards in front of the pah, which,
although a part of the same ridge, was divided from it by a deep gully,
and this hill we fortified, working under a heavy fire.
Next day the Ngatiporou and some other friendlies skirmished very
cautiously up the hill so as to begin the game, and, on reaching the
edge of the cleared ground, came across a party of the enemy carrying
water. Our men opened fire and charged, driving the Hau Haus back to
the pah and seizing the only watering-place they possessed. Rapata
at once dug, under a heavy fire, a line of rifle pits, and sent back
for reinforcements, which were quickly furnished him in the shape of
No. 7 Division Armed Constabulary, who, on reaching the rifle pits,
immediately started a flying sap, which they drove within a distance
of one hundred yards from the outer parapet, and here they formed the
second parallel of attack.
The artillery division of the Armed Constabulary, assisted by some
natives, had for the last few days been working like beavers to get a
mortar across some miles of the most awful country, consisting chiefly
of deep, rocky and precipitous ravines, every shell having to be
carried on men’s backs across these natural obstacles, and just as No.
7 were completing their trench the gun was brought into action, the
vertical fire from which having a great moral effect upon the defenders.
On the next day the place was thoroughly invested, with the exception
of the one small length of precipice I have before mentioned. This
place was not overlooked, but as it was not more than seventy yards
long, and perpendicular, it was deemed quite impossible that the enemy
could escape down it, especially as a strong picket was placed at both
ends of it, who could enfilade its face.
The attack was now pushed briskly forward, though for some days we
were hampered by heavy rain that filled our trenches with mud, and
added greatly to our discomfort, as we occupied them day and night. It
moreover supplied the enemy with water to drink. Notwithstanding this
drawback we all worked away with good hearts, though of course the
risks officers and men ran, working in the flying sap, soon caused our
gimcrack hospital to overflow.
I was at this time attached to Colonel Fraser’s outfit that held the
rear of the pah, and that gallant officer, not being content to look
on, gave the order for us to mount the serrated ridge that led up the
back of the hill. This we did; scaling ladders were quickly formed out
of poles and vines. Rough constructions they were, but they served at a
pinch for active, determined men, and we were all that, though perhaps
not a highly moral community. We scrambled up one precipitous terrace
after another under heavy fire, but covered by our sharpshooters, who,
being infinitely better shots than the Hau Haus, afforded us sufficient
protection, until we at last formed a rough shelter trench under the
steep rock that formed the summit of the hill and the rear defence of
the pah, so that the natives were hived in their works.
This they bitterly resented, and made sally after sally to drive us
out of our hardly gained position, but we clung to it like limpets to
a rock, and, although we lost many good men in the savage hand-to-hand
fighting, still we managed to hold on to the end.
Colonel Whitmore and Rapata now determined to storm the advance
parapet, for, although we were well aware that the Hau Haus had no
water, and we surmised they could have but little food, if any,
still we were on less than half rations ourselves, as owing to the
sinful country we were fighting in it was absolutely impossible for
pack-horses, much less drays, to keep us supplied, so that many of the
friendly natives, should they feel the pinch of hunger, might at any
time take it into their heads they had business at home and clear out.
This being so, Rapata, with fifty picked Ngatiporou, under cover of the
best shots in the force, scaled the almost perpendicular sides of the
slope, and, with picks and spades carried up with them, broke through
the trench behind the parapet, and by doing so were able to enfilade it.
The defenders drew to that end to oppose him, and were doing their
best, when with a cheer the Armed Constabulary, who were in the
advanced trench of the attack, jumped out and rushed the parapet. The
Hau Haus, taken in front and flank, fought bravely, but were either
killed or driven pell-mell behind their second line of defences. A
fresh sap was immediately commenced, the captured trench being used
as a new base, and the men working like niggers, notwithstanding the
heavy fire and a furious sally by the enemy had excavated by midnight
sufficient cover for two hundred stormers close up to the second line.
It was now Colonel Whitmore’s intention to blow up this parapet,
and with a rush take the main work at daylight. Our party were also
ordered to hold themselves in readiness for a last effort, and we knew
something serious must happen, as that evening the enemy had made a
most determined attack on us, which we had had great difficulty in
beating off, and we also knew that they must be now not only short of
water but also very short of food, as the bodies of the dead Hau Haus
plainly showed they were on the shortest rations, while as the rain had
quite cleared off they must be famished with thirst.
All that night we sat with our weapons in our hands, silently awaiting
the dawn, but about two A.M. a woman in the pah, having relations among
the Ngatiporou, called out telling them that Te Kooti had escaped. This
her people would not believe, as every man of the field force was at
his post and on the qui vive, so, thinking it might be a trap, they
called to her to come out. To this she demurred, refusing to budge
until her safety was guaranteed by some chief of repute. Eventually
this was done, when out she came, her story being that all the
unwounded Maoris had escaped, leaving their disabled men, the women and
children behind them.
As day dawned we advanced cautiously into the interior of the pah, and
found her yarn to be true; but we also plainly saw that had we made
an attempt to rush the place we should most probably have been beaten
back with great loss. The Ngatiporou quickly finished off the wounded
men, and then, at Rapata’s suggestion, started off in pursuit of the
fugitives, who, as we ascertained, had been three days without water
and four days without food of any sort, and were therefore not likely
to be able to travel fast over such rough and broken country.
The way the bounders had escaped was truly marvellous, as they had
descended the face of the precipice, and that so silently as not to
have been heard by the pickets posted at either end of it, these
pickets being not more than sixty yards apart.
It was not long before small parties of the Ngatiporou began to return,
bringing batches of prisoners back with them, the latter being brought
at once before Rapata, a stern judge, forsooth. Few and brief were
the questions he asked them, and they received a short shrift and a
long drop, as they were placed by squads at the edge of the highest
precipice, when they were shot, their bodies toppling over and falling
to the foot, and there their bones lie to the present day.
This was a frugal way of getting rid of them, as it saved rations,
burial fees and all other expenses. True it may seem to you good
people who live at home under the lee of the law and the police that
our conduct was cruel and bloodthirsty in the extreme, but you must
remember that every one of those one hundred and thirty Hau Haus
who were disposed of in this summary manner had borne a hand in the
massacre of women and children, and that in a way too awful to write
about; moreover we were fighting without gloves; and that it was war to
the knife.
By the end of the second day the last of Rapata’s men had returned,
and the last prisoner had gone over the precipice; but the arch-devil,
Te Kooti, and some of his principal satellites, having escaped, were
still at large.
I will now relate a short yarn which illustrates a phase of Maori
customs, and how the astute Rapata got to windward of a Maori law.
One of the prisoners brought in was a man named Renata, who was a
Ngatiporou Hau Hau of high birth, being not only closely related to
Rapata himself but also connected to the highest chiefs of the tribe.
Now this man Renata had been one of the original convicts sent to
the Chatham Islands, but owing to his high connections he had, after
a short detention there, been released and allowed to return home.
He however showed but little gratitude for this indulgence, as he
immediately joined Te Kooti on his landing. When his capture was
reported to Rapata that gallant chief was somewhat nonplussed. Spare
him he would not, and yet to order his immediate death might arouse the
anger and draw the revenge of the great tribal chiefs against himself.
Anyhow Renata had to be killed, so Rapata sent word to his men that he
did not want to see the prisoner. This was his death warrant, as no
sooner had the captors received the message than they placed Renata
with a batch of men who were philosophically waiting the volley and
the long drop. Renata, however, was a rangatera, and would not submit
to being put to death in such an offhand fashion, so that when he was
formed up in the line of the unfortunates at the top of the precipice,
and the firing party were capping their guns, he rushed at his
captors, knocked down one, broke through the rest and fled into some
scrub, but his plucky attempt was a failure, as he was followed by two
men, who ran him down and shot him.
It now behoved Rapata to square the other chiefs, who were as yet
ignorant of the execution, so, taking the bull by the horns, he called
a meeting of the tribal notabilities, the agenda being, What was to be
done with the delinquent? At this meeting Rapata made a most eloquent
and diplomatic speech, pointing out how wrong they would be to spare
such a man simply because he was a relation of their own. Again, what
would the white men say if a man of good blood was allowed to go
scathless while men of lower rank were shot by the dozen? In fact he
so cornered them that they knew not what to say, until at last old
Wikiriwhi, a chief of the greatest rank, who very probably was getting
bored and quite possibly wanted his dinner, became so moved as to say:
“We leave him to you.”
“Then,” rejoined Rapata, “he is a dead man”; and so he was and had been
for twenty-four hours.
Of course a large number of Hau Haus had escaped with Te Kooti, and
many of them, weakening on the job, returned in small batches to
their homes, some having the temerity to show themselves in the white
settlements, and these the weak-minded Government left unmolested,
notwithstanding it was well known they were all more or less implicated
in the various massacres. True there was not much evidence against
them, as all their victims were dead, but this did not assuage the
sorrow of relations nor mitigate their wrath, and on several occasions
the white settlers very properly avenged themselves.
One case was as follows: A man named Benson, hearing the murderer of
one of his relations had returned, bailed him up and shot him dead. On
the following day Benson was warned by the town constable to attend
as a juryman at the inquest of the defunct. This surprised him and he
tried to point out to the representative of the law that for him to
do so would be rather out of place as he himself was the shooter; but
the sapient official refused to entertain the excuse and threatened
him with all sorts of dreadful penalties should he not comply with the
order. So Benson sat as juryman on his own trial, gave evidence against
himself, and at the end of the inquiry was one of the twelve good men
and true who brought in the following verdict:--“Shot by some person
unknown, and serve him right.”
One more case. The general killing was over when eight prisoners were
brought in, and the Government representatives, who by that time were
on the spot, thought they should receive a trial. This was equivalent
to releasing them, as it is impossible to get a witness to bear
evidence after he has been murdered. Anyhow these eight beauties were
confined in a hut with a trooper on guard over them. Now it chanced
that among the troopers was a man named Hunt, whose wife and family had
been butchered by the gang these ruffians belonged to. He was a quiet,
methodical man who said nothing, but awaited his opportunity; and it
came. One day he was detailed as prison guard, which he mounted, having
previously borrowed a second revolver from his mate. Hunt quietly took
over the duty, entered the hut, made fast the door, drew his brace of
revolvers and deliberately shot every one of the bounders, a plan so
well conceived and carried out as to be worthy of the approval of both
white men and Maoris.
CHAPTER IV
BACK TO THE WEST COAST
Directly after the fall of Ngatapa, Colonel Whitmore returned to
Wanganui, taking us with him, so as to play a return match against our
old opponent, Titokowaru, and by the end of the month we were again on
the bank of the Kai-iwi River, where Colonel Lyon had built a strong
redoubt, and constructed a bridge of sorts. The little Colonel was not
a man to waste time, so decided to advance the following day by the
track that ran inland. Although close to the camp this road passed
through a very deep and densely bushed gorge, which, if held by an
enemy, would cost a lot of lives to force. The Colonel knew all about
this, so during the evening he despatched Kepa with his Wanganuis to
make a detour through the bush and occupy the other end, while shortly
afterwards he sent me with four scouts to thoroughly examine the gorge
itself, for which purpose he sent with us a white settler, who, owning
the land there, of course knew that part of the country well.
Taking Pierre, George, Tim and a man named M’Kenzie with me, I left
camp at dark, and worked quietly along one side of the ravine as far
as I could get without running foul of Kepa’s scouts; then I crossed
it, and worked down the other side, but could neither see nor hear
anything. I was, however, far from being satisfied, as the queer
instinct a highly trained scout acquires warned me I was in the
vicinity of great danger; moreover George, whom I had detached for a
time to watch the greatest point of danger, told me, when he joined up,
he fancied he had heard the sound of metal striking stone. I therefore
determined to make a further examination.
We again proceeded up the side of the ravine, entered it high up and
descended, guiding ourselves through the pitch darkness by feeling our
way cautiously along the side of the track. This of course was running
an awful risk, but I saw no other way of solving the problem. My men
were all game; if we were cut off some firing must occur, the camp
would be alarmed, and, if none of us reported, still the Colonel would
know the enemy were in occupation of the gorge.
Moving as quietly as death, and just as the dawn was lightening the
sky, we reach the most dangerous point of the ravine, when M’Kenzie
tripped in a rut and fell. Immediately a shot rang out, then two,
and before you could say knife, both sides of the gully blazed with
musketry. Hastily pulling Mac to his feet we all bolted, as, with the
crashing of bush and yelling like fiends incarnate, a swarm of Hau Haus
started in pursuit.
Lord, how we did run, M’Kenzie and the settler being in front,
while myself and Tim, who would not leave me, brought up the rear.
Fortunately we were close to the end of the defile, and as we came
out into the open we somehow got separated, as each man took what
he considered to be the best line for camp, which he knew must be
alarmed by the firing. It was much lighter when we got into the open
and tore through the stunted fern and manuka scrub, but, although you
have no time for debate or argument when some two hundred howling
savages, armed with tomahawks, are close up to you, still I glanced
to my right and left, and as there was no cover to hide a running man
I saw M’Kenzie and the settler some fifty yards away to my right,
while Pierre and George were running somewhat closer on my left. It
was a case of, “Go it, shirt tails, bowie knives is a-gaining on you,”
and you can bet your bottom dollar we did our level best. Nor was
I hopeless, as I knew, with the little Colonel in command, all the
troopers would be saddled up, and the camp on the qui vive at least an
hour before the glimmer of dawn.
The Hau Hau volley must have been heard, and the Maori did not exist
who could catch the little Colonel on the hop. I had no fear of being
hit, as, although an occasional Maori would squib off his gun at us,
still they could not stop to take aim or load, so we only had to keep
ahead to win through, and each of us sprinted for what he was worth.
Tim and myself had kept to the road, and had still plenty of run left
in us, when I heard the hoof-thuds of galloping horses and saw the
troopers come charging through the fern. But, alas! at the same moment
I heard from my right the triumphant yell a Maori warrior lets go
(which being interpreted means, “I have caught the first man”).
In a moment Tim and myself halted and faced about; the party who had
been actually in pursuit of us had also halted, taking cover; and,
looking in the direction from which the yell had come, I saw the
settler staggering through the fern, closely pursued by a Maori, who
just overhauled him, and was in the act of tomahawking him, as I fired;
which took effect first, lead or steel, I knew not, but they both went
down together.
In the first glance I had seen, a few yards in rear of this pair,
another warrior, who, waving in the air a blood-stained tomahawk,
yelled again the same triumphant cry, “I have caught the first man,”
and at the same moment I heard Tim’s vengeful cuss: “Have ye, ye
blaggard? Thin go to hell wid him.” The two carbines rang out nearly
simultaneously, and through the smoke I caught a momentary glimpse of
the triumphant figure let fall his weapon and collapse.
Before either of us could speak a word a small party of horsemen
reached us, while, in rear of them, advancing at the double, came two
divisions of the Armed Constabulary, who, passing us with a cheer,
swept forward and quickly drove the retreating Hau Haus back to the
bush.
We now went up to where the settler and M’Kenzie were lying; the former
we found alive, though badly wounded, but the latter, poor fellow, had
lost the number of his mess; as for the two Maoris, they were past
conversion.
It had been indeed a stroke of luck our flushing the Hau Haus as we
did, although I could not take any credit to myself for the way I had
engineered the contract, as we quickly discovered they had planned a
most artful ambuscade in such a manner that, had the column entered
the gorge in the ordinary way, it must have been cut to pieces. Poor
M’Kenzie’s tumble, however, had been too much for the nerves of some of
the younger warriors, so they let rip, and thereby gave away the whole
show.
The Colonel, without losing a single moment, took advantage of the
retreat of the Hau Haus, for troth! the little fiend, with all his
faults, was a splendid soldier, always ready for a fight, so, without
giving the enemy a single minute to gather together, he immediately
rushed four divisions through the gorge, and took up a strong position
some two miles on the other side of it. Here he remained for a couple
of days, gathering together all his available forces, and then, on the
2nd of February, advanced to attack Titokowaru in his new stronghold of
Tauranga-a-Hika, in which, he well knew, the main body of the rebel Hau
Haus were massed.
It was late in the afternoon when we reached the place and saw we had
a stiff job before us, for, although the natural difficulties were
not nearly so hard to overcome as had been the case at Ngatapa, still
it was a very strongly built pah, heavily palisaded, and extremely
difficult to surround. It, however, had one defect, as in front of
the pah and quite close up to it ran a long bank and ditch, which for
some inscrutable reason the enemy had not cleared away, but which the
Colonel spotted at a glance, and ordered three divisions of the Armed
Constabulary to immediately advance in skirmishing order and seize
them. My division was one of those told off for this duty, so, without
a pause, we extended from our centre and advanced. There was not much
cover, but what there was we made use of, and although the Maoris
kept up a tremendous fire, which we never paused to return, we doubled
straight to our front and were soon inside the ditch and behind the
bank without a man being hit.
Here we quickly opened fire so as to cover the advance of the other two
divisions, who were equally fortunate, and on their arrival we poured
a combined volley into the place, just to let the Hau Haus know the
sort of music we expected them to dance to. I do not think we did much
damage, as their works were so beautifully constructed that during the
whole of the evening we never saw so much as a head to aim at. Still
we kept on sending them an occasional volley, which they answered
vigorously, and between these we collogued one another; as we were so
mighty adjacent it was quite easy to carry on a conversation, and a
conversation was kept up.
Chiefly, I regret to say, the dialogue was of a personal nature more
pungent than polite, although now and again some old cannibal would
call both sides to order and preach a homily on the etiquette that
should be observed between hostile warriors when engaged in the serious
pastime of war.
At last night fell, and we received orders to remain where we were,
as it was the Colonel’s intention to surround the pah the following
day, he quite rightly judging it to be far too dangerous a job to
tackle during the dark. We had food in our haversacks, though water was
scarce, and of course we could not sleep, especially as the Hau Haus
every now and again fired a volley, so as to warn us they were awake.
One old buster was good enough to preach us an eloquent sermon, and
tried hard to convert us to the Pai Marire faith. He had, previous to
joining the Hau Haus, been a high-toned native Bible reader belonging
to one of the Nonconformist fancy religions, and was loaded up to
the muzzle with Bible texts, which he employed in the most laughable
manner, interpreting them so as to suit his own arguments. Alas, poor
old scallywag, not only was he wasting his breath in sowing his seed
on barren land, but he also ran up against one of Kepa’s men who was
likewise an ex-Bible reader, and who proclaimed himself to be a devout
Roman Catholic. This sinner had the advantage, being not only better
posted in controversy, but knowing more English, and through having
been employed with the pack-mules had acquired a far greater number
of Anglo-Saxon cuss words, therefore the elderly sinner was utterly
routed and driven off the field, the Christian champion’s peroration
being as follows:--“You ruddy Hau Hau, you dance round pole all same
as monkey monkey; you say prayers to Pai Marire, you make ruddy fool
incantations, you say angel Gabriel stop bullets from kill you, you
ruddy liar, you come out here, you ----, me show you damn quick you
---- ---- ----, angel Gabriel no have truck with such a ---- ---- as
you, you black Debil’s man, you go hell quick time, and burn for eber,
you kiss my foot, you ---- ----.”
This is only a fraction of what our Christian hero said, and the
apostle of Hau Hauism, handicapped as he was by the non-existence of
cuss words in the Maori language, and having not yet acquired the
promised gift of tongues, was reduced to silence and subsided.
After midnight the Hau Hau fire gradually died away, as did the
religious arguments, till just before dawn not even the choicest abuse
from our side could draw any response. Naturally this reticence on
their part put us doubly on the qui vive, as we thought most likely the
enemy were up to some devilry or another, a sudden sally or a flank
attack, but neither of these we feared, as all our preparations were
in order and we were ready for anything. Nor were we nervous about the
main body, as we knew the impish little Colonel, who could go a month
without sleep himself, would not only be on the alert, but would jolly
well have all his men awake and lively.
The dawn came at last, but brought no attack with it, complete silence
resting on the pah, so one of our men, named Black, very pluckily
jumped over the bank and walked quietly up to the place. As he heard
nothing he climbed the fence and shouted out the pah was deserted.
We were soon inside it, and were astonished at its strength, all hands
plainly seeing we should never have taken it without expending enormous
labour in mining, or by reducing the defenders through starvation. It
was evidently the latter Titokowaru feared, as it contained but little
food or water, and he was fully aware of the fate of Ngatapa.
Without a moment’s delay the pursuit began, the Colonel with the
main body making for Weraroa, while Kepa with a party of his own men
followed up the spoor of the retreating Hau Haus. In a very short
time he came up with their rear-guard, who turned, and in overpowering
numbers attacked him, but he succeeded after a brisk hand-to-hand fight
in getting clear of them, and turned the tables by hanging on their
skirts until the firing brought up one of our divisions, when the Hau
Haus were so roughly handled that they broke and fled and the pursuit
went on.
Bivouacking that night on their line of retreat we advanced next day
to Moturoa, where we had been defeated the previous year, and where we
fully expected the enemy would make a determined stand. Strong as the
place was, however, Titokowaru had not seen fit to hold it, but had
passed on, so we took the opportunity of gathering together the remains
of the poor fellows we had had to abandon on that unfortunate day, and
cremated them.
Without going into nauseous particulars I may state there was ample
evidence of how they had been desecrated by the enemy, which did not
improve the temper of their comrades. Some sharp skirmishing ensued, in
which we always got the best of it, but after a few days we had to fall
back owing to the lack of food, it being impossible to furnish us, in
the rough and broken country, even with the scantiest supply of rations.
As we retired the enemy followed us, and soon let us know they had done
so, as a sergeant and nine men who had crossed the Waitotara River in a
canoe, for the purpose of gathering peaches, were attacked by seventy
Hau Haus. These sportsmen fired a volley at our men while they were
picking the fruit, but hit no one.
The white men seized their rifles and made a bolt for the river, which
they reached in safety, and where, had they made a stand under cover
of the bank, they might have stood their pursuers off, as the already
alarmed camp was in sight and quite close to, but instead of doing so
they tried to escape in the canoe, and the Hau Haus lining the bank
shot them down in a heap, killing seven and wounding one. The natives
were immediately driven back, but not before they had dreadfully
mutilated the dead men.
Just as we had recuperated and were about to again take the field we
received the news of an outbreak at White Cliffs, north of Taranaki,
which began by the cold-blooded murder of Lieutenant Gascoigne, his
wife and three children, together with the Rev. Mr Whiteley. The latter
was a man much respected by all classes of white men, for he was one of
the very few missionaries who could deeply sympathise with the natives,
and yet forbear to throw mud at his own countrymen.
This rising necessitated the Colonel sending one hundred of his men to
the White Cliffs, although he delayed not a moment, taking the field
with the rest of us. News had filtered through that Titokowaru was
at Putahi, and away we started, the enemy trying to cut off our food
convoy by laying an ambuscade for us at the mouth of the Whenuakura
River. It was a well-designed plan, but when it came to the scratch the
Hau Haus fought half-heartedly and were easily beaten off by the ration
escort.
I had been sent forward to scout, taking with me my usual companions,
and after three days’ arduous duty discovered that the Hau Haus were
actually in great force at Otauto, a kainga on the left bank of the
Patea River. Colonel Whitmore, on receipt of my report, immediately
despatched Colonel St John up the right bank of the river to hold the
drifts and cut off the enemy’s retreat, while he moved up the left bank
to rout them out.
It was a splendidly devised scheme and well carried out, but alas, it
failed, for two reasons: first of all the enemy, growing nervous, had
that night left the shelter of their kainga and camped outside it,
taking up a position at least half-a-mile nearer than where we expected
to find them. Again, just as we had deployed for the attack a dense fog
came on and we of the advance-guard blundered right into the middle of
the Hau Hau bivouac. We certainly completely surprised them, but owing
to the dense mist, that without a moment’s notice became as thick as
one of London’s very best, we were quite unable to do anything, in fact
we could not see a foot beyond our noses, so there was nothing to do
but lie down and wait.
The surprised Hau Haus, who were in almost as great a fix as ourselves,
opened a tremendous fire, which, as they could no more see us than we
could see them, did but little harm. Heavy firing was nevertheless kept
up by both sides for nearly an hour, when, the fog suddenly rising,
their camp was discovered close to, which we at once charged, the enemy
rapidly retreating, followed by Kepa and his Wanganuis.
On the 16th of March Kepa, who was out bush-whacking, sent in word that
he had located Titokowaru at Whakamura, and off we went, joining up
to him on the evening of the 17th, when after another smart march our
whole force lay in ambush within two hundred yards of the place.
During this interlude Colonel Lyon, who on that occasion was in
command, ordered me to take the best scouts, creep up to the pah, and
look for a weak spot. On doing so we scouts had a treat, as crawling
right up to the place we could distinctly hear the speeches of old
Titokowaru and his chiefs, who were holding a rather rowdy council
meeting. They were evidently not a happy family, and their opinions
greatly differed.
One old Johnny began his harangue by deploring their late losses,
asserting that his special tribe had borne more than their share of
the fighting, demanded that the retreat should be continued at once,
asserted that either the angel Gabriel or a certain prophet was a
humbug, that reiterating the word, “Hau Hau,” and holding out the palms
of their hands had, as far as his knowledge carried him up to date,
saved no one from the bullet of the white man, that dancing round
the Pai Marire pole had not as yet brought them the gift of tongues,
otherwise their apostle would not have received such a defeat as he
had done at Tauranga-a-Hika from the hands of a mere slave of a Roman
Catholic.
Another then took the floor, and asserted that the late honourable
member, who had wasted his breath, was quite wrong; that they had not
abandoned Tauranga-a-Hika on account of their losses, but because they
had no food or water, that the angel Gabriel only delayed helping them
so that those weak in faith should be cut off; this being done he
would come to their assistance with a legion of angels, and those white
men who were not turned into stone would be driven into the sea.
The next speaker, I think, must have been Titokowaru himself or his
representative, as he asserted that they would fight on that spot,
that the white men could not reach them for three days, and wound up
by assuring them he had received a revelation that they would gain a
decisive victory.
The council then separated, and it required no great skill in the art
of prophecy to foretell that should the coalition of the Hau Hau tribes
get another good shake up they would fall asunder like a bundle of
sticks when the cord binding it together is severed.
Creeping back I reported to the Colonel, and rejoined the storming
party to which I had been told off. The weary waiting was almost over,
in another quarter of an hour the dawn of day would have given us the
signal to charge, when a mounted native came out of the pah and rode
towards us. Greatly surprised as we were, we lay as still as death, and
he cantered right through our party without spotting one of us, only to
come full butt against the main body. In a breath he slewed his horse
round and galloped back, yelling as if he had the stomach-ache, and
firing off a revolver. All our fine plans were knocked galley west; out
rang the order to charge. We charged; crash went the fence, and head
first, feet first, or landing in a sitting position, in we went, but it
was too dark to see, much less to aim, and all we could hear was the
yells of the astonished Hau Haus, who bolted hell for leather, without
firing a single shot.
As soon as it was light enough to see, Kepa, with his Wanganuis,
accompanied by a party of us white men, started in pursuit, but we
found before we had proceeded far the Hau Haus had broken up and
dispersed. We, however, succeeded in killing a few men, who had
taken refuge up trees, and also captured three women, who, on being
brought into camp, declared that Titokowaru had fled to Te Ngaihere, a
historical stronghold that in ancient days had been looked upon as the
last refuge of his tribe. By doing so he had lost the last remnant of
his prestige, so that the haughty savage who had proclaimed only two
months previously he was going to drive the white men into the sea was
now a fugitive, abandoned by his allies, laughed at by his enemies, and
with but few followers on whom he could rely.
But now the question arose: Where was this fabled Te Ngaihere? No one
seemed to know its locality or what it was like. Everyone seemed to
have heard traditions about it, but no one had ever set eyes on it.
It was a place tapu, not to be talked about, much less to be visited,
and whether it were a mountain, a bush, a lake or a cave, no one could
give us a single pointer. However, if a place be worth finding it is
worth prospecting for, so away went Kepa to scour the country one way,
while myself with my usual followers took another direction. It was a
big order, as I think you will allow, my gentle readers, to plunge into
a trackless country and look for something not knowing what the deuce
it was you were hunting for. Troth, for my own part, I consider that
prospecting for the Holy Grail was a dry billet alongside the one I had
shipped for.
Kepa was the lucky man to solve the problem, Te Ngaihere turning out
to be a big island situated in the centre of a quaking swamp. In olden
days this swamp had evidently been much deeper, but it still looked
quite impassable for anything but a snipe, and both Kepa and Whitmore
deemed it to be so, the distance from the mainland to the island being
quite four hundred yards.
The whole force, moved up by a night’s march, camped close to the swamp
and quite out of sight of the stronghold, and although in dense bush,
not a fire was allowed to be lit during the whole time we were making
our preparations for attack, though our scouts kept the island under
observation day and night. It was now a case for all hands to off
shirt, out tomahawk and work like beavers, constructing out of supple
jacks, hurdles, fifteen feet long and four feet wide, in sufficient
quantity to cross the quagmire. So well did we work and so well were we
handled that in four days every preparation had been made, and at dark
on the 24th we began to lay our frail bridge across the bog, this being
finished at four A.M., when without a second’s delay the column began
to cross. The first lot of us got over dry shod, but then the bridge
began to sink, so that the rear of the column had to struggle through
slime and water, which took the rear-guard up to their middle.
Notwithstanding this drawback we were all safely across, then, leaving
Colonel Lyon with a strong party to protect the bridge head, the
little Colonel moved on to the kainga, the inhabitants of which were
in blissful ignorance of our proximity. With the scouts I crept right
into the place and heard one old man lamenting to his wife that he
feared the big evil man (Titokowaru) would soon bring the white men
down on them.
It was now an extraordinary accident was about to happen that again
saved Titokowaru and the remnant of his bloodthirsty tribe from our
just resentment. The day broke clear, when the natives immediately
discovered us. Their astonishment was most ludicrous, as they all
thought we had dropped from the sky. Some ran away from us; some ran
towards us, shouting out words of welcome; others, too overcome to
move, could do nothing else but stand with goggle eyes and with palms
stretched out, hoarsely muttering the mystic words “Hau Hau,” none
making the slightest attempt to resist us.
The long-waited-for execution was just about to commence when the
Wanganuis, usually so ready to begin killing, shouted out to us to be
careful how we fired as two of their chiefs were mixed up with the
now flying crowd. The Colonel, not understanding the Maori tongue,
fancied that because the Wanganuis had not fired we had in some
miraculous manner fallen across an unknown friendly tribe, so ordered
us not to fire. None of us did fire, and because we did not fire the
Wanganuis did not do so, so we simply stood and watched long lines of
men, women and children wading through the swamp within a few yards
of us, and it was only when the hindermost fugitives made very many
indecent gestures at us, previous to disappearing into the bush, that
the Colonel ascertained that the simple, frightened friendlies he had
permitted to escape were Titokowaru and his own personal tribe, the
most blood-stained fanatics in the whole of New Zealand.
Well, we sat down and looked at one another; and as each man thought
over the forced labour of the past few days, of the long, dreary night
marches, of the short rations, of the blistered hands and the torn
feet which he had suffered and which, through that morning’s miserable
misunderstanding, he would have to suffer again, he forbore to swear,
being unable to find in his repertoire any cuss words suitable to
express his sentiments.
Notwithstanding his escape Titokowaru was beaten; he had lost his
mana (luck); all the allies who had flocked to him in his prosperity
deserted him like rats running from an unseaworthy ship, and after
the retirement of the field force he was for a time hunted by small
parties of local levies, together with a few of the Armed Constabulary
belonging to the district, until he disappeared into the interior,
where the Government let him rip.
The subjugation and disarmament of the tribes who had joined him being
left to junior officers, Colonel Whitmore immediately started again for
the east coast, taking all the available men of the West Coast Field
Force with him.
We were therefore shipped on the steamers _Sturt_ and _St Kilda_, on
the 10th of April, reaching Onehunga on the eve of the following day.
It was dark when we landed and got our baggage ashore, and we then
started to march across the isthmus to Auckland, where fresh shipping
awaited to take us down the east coast to Tauranga.