ATTENDING A NATIVE CHURCH.--A FEEJEEAN PREACHER.--DINNER WITH A FEEJEEAN
FAMILY.--THE SEASONS IN FEEJEE.--A TROPICAL SHOWER.--A HURRICANE.--A
PLANTER'S ADVENTURES.--SCENES OF DEVASTATION.--THE CLIMATE of THE FEEJEE
ISLANDS.--WRECKED ON A REEF.--ESCAPING FROM THE JAWS OF CANNIBALS.--A
WALKING ART GALLERY.--A TATTOOED WHITE MAN.--RETURNING TO SUVA.--THE
FRIENDLY, OR TONGA, ISLANDS.--TONGATABOO.--THE KING OF THE TONGAS.--HOW
HE LIVES.--A REMARKABLE CAVERN AND A LOVE STORY ABOUT IT.--FROM FEEJEE
TO NEW ZEALAND.--HAURAKI GULF.--AUCKLAND.--A FINE SEAPORT AND ITS
COMMERCE.--HOW NEW ZEALAND WAS COLONIZED.--THE MAORIS.--CURIOUS FACTS
ABOUT A CURIOUS PEOPLE.--MISSIONARIES IN NEW ZEALAND.--HOW THE MAORIS
MAKE WAR.
The second day of the stay of our friends at Levuka was Sunday, and the
party attended the Episcopal church in the forenoon, where service was
conducted by a clergyman who had recently arrived from London. In the
afternoon they strolled to the native village outside the town, where
they found some fifty or sixty Feejeeans squatted on the mat-covered
floor of the neat and well-swept church listening to a preacher of their
own race. They were amused to see a tall man armed with a long stick
with which he occasionally touched the heads of those who were
inattentive, and sometimes his touch was far from light. Frank thought
the idea would not be a bad one for churches nearer home, where
worshippers have been known to go to sleep during the sermon.
The preacher was a tall, fine-looking man of at least fifty years, and
he spoke with an eloquence that indicated his earnestness and fervor. Of
course his language was unknown to our friends, but they all agreed that
the Feejeean tongue is capable of much expression. It contains many
guttural sounds that do not always strike the American or English ear
agreeably, and the orator seemed to speak with more rapidity than is
compatible with a clear understanding on the part of his hearers. When
the sermon was ended the preacher offered a prayer, and then a hymn was
sung by the whole congregation. The air was a familiar Methodist one,
but the words were Feejeean. Whether the meaning of the original hymn
was preserved with the air no one of the listeners was able to say, and
there was no interpreter present to tell them.
[Illustration: MISSION CHURCH IN THE FEEJEE ISLANDS.]
As soon as service was over the strangers were surrounded by a group of
natives, and there was an attempt at conversation; but as our friends
were totally unlearned in Feejeean, and the vocabulary of the natives
was principally confined to the word "shillin'," there was not much
interchange of thought. Nearly every Feejeean understands "shillin'"
well enough to pronounce it. He has a clear idea that it means money,
and it is in this sense that it is used. Ask a native what he will sell
his house for, and he will answer "shillin';" ask him the price of a
cocoanut, and the reply is the same. In the former case he would of
course decline the offer if actually made, and in the latter he would
bring you twenty or fifty cocoanuts for the figure named.
In strolling around as the congregation dispersed Frank and Fred became
separated from the rest of the party, but without any misgivings as to
their safety or loss of way, as they were accompanied by several
natives, one of whom invited the youths to his house. This was an
invitation not to be ignored; it was accepted at once, and the man led
the way along a path to where he lived. It was a hut of dried reeds
lashed to a framework of poles, and stood with a dozen similar huts in
the shade of a grove of cocoa-trees. The thatched roof was high and
arched, while the sides were very low, and had no windows. There were
two doors on opposite sides, but the door-way was so low that it was
necessary to stoop almost double in order to enter. In front of the hut
was a lot of bones and all manner of refuse, and a couple of pigs were
lying across the door-way. They showed no inclination to move as the
master of the house approached; but on catching sight, and possibly
smell, of the strangers, they were up and off very quickly.
[Illustration: GOING TO CHURCH.--RIVER SCENE.]
Inside the hut the floor was covered with plaited rushes, and there was
a low partition of reeds dividing it into two nearly equal spaces; one
of these was used as kitchen and sitting-room and the other for
sleeping; but there was no furniture in either place beyond three or
four of the wooden pillows already described. In one corner of the
kitchen was a rough hearth, with some clay pots in which fish and yams
were cooked.
[Illustration: FEEJEEAN HEAD.]
Partly by signs and partly by the words "want eat," the host invited the
youths to stay to dinner. They accepted, more to see how and upon what
the natives live rather than on account of having an appetite. Fire was
lighted on the hearth, or rather it was stirred up from some slumbering
coals, fish and yams were put on to boil, and in a little while the meal
was ready. Frank and Fred made friends with the children, to whom they
showed their watches, and made a few presents of silver coin as an
indirect compensation for their dinner, and when the meal was ready they
proceeded to enjoy it. One of the children had been sent for some
banana-leaves, which served as plates; on these leaves the fish and yams
were dished up, and a piece of rock-salt was brought out, together with
a shell, with which each guest could scrape off as much salt as he
liked, and whenever he wanted it. The youths made a practical
demonstration of the truth of the adage that fingers were made before
forks, though not without some inconvenience. To end the repast they had
some ripe bananas, and of course the drink that accompanied the meal was
the juice of freshly picked cocoanuts.
[Illustration: FEEJEEAN WEAPONS.]
As soon as Frank and Fred rose from the mats the youngsters of the
family attacked what they had left, and in a very few minutes nothing
remained save the lump of salt and the empty banana-leaf plates. Then
there was handshaking all around, and the visitors took their leave. The
host accompanied them to the road leading back to town, and there left
them, but not until he had pocketed a shilling which Frank tendered him.
Clouds were forming in the sky, and the youths thought it would be
prudent to return to the hotel. They did so, and found the rest of the
party on the veranda waiting for the promised shower. In a few minutes
the rain came down thick and fast, and the wisdom of returning was no
longer in doubt. The shower was soon over, however, and then the sun
came out as brightly as ever, though there was no apparent change in the
temperature.
"You are in the best season of the year," said one of their new
acquaintances; "it's fortunate for you that it's not hurricane time
now."
"We have here," he continued, "a dry season and a wet one. The former is
cool, and lasts from May to October; the latter is hot, and lasts from
October to May. During all the dry season, and for a month at each end
of the wet one, the climate is delightful, the temperature varying from
70° to 78° or 79°, and the heat of the sun being tempered by breezes
from the sea. The mean temperature is about 80°, the extreme ranges thus
far recorded being 60° and 122°. From Christmas to March is called the
'hurricane season;' the air is moist and sticky, the temperature
averaging 84°, with a humidity so great that one seems to be constantly
in a Russian steam-bath. This is the unhealthy season, and fevers and
other diseases due to the heat and moisture are common."
[Illustration: TELLING THE STORY.]
Frank asked if hurricanes were frequent during the season.
"Not at all," was the reply, "but when they do come they are in dead
earnest. From 1879 to 1886 we didn't have a really severe hurricane; but
this is, I believe, the longest interval known to any of the European
residents. One old settler told me there were several years when not a
season passed without at least one hurricane."
"Are they very destructive?" Fred inquired.
"I can best answer that question," said the gentleman, "by describing
the first hurricane I ever passed through in the Feejees.
[Illustration: FORMATION OF CLOUDS BEFORE A FEEJEEAN HURRICANE.]
"I was on a plantation in which I had bought an interest, and during the
whole of the month of March the weather was very calm and sultry. One
day, towards the beginning of April, the wind turned to the north-west,
which was quite unusual; squalls and showers followed, and then the
breeze freshened into a gale. Heavy clouds covered the sky, thunder
sounded loud and long, the barometer fell, and the clouds seemed to
sweep just above the tops of the trees. Then the rain came in torrents,
flooding all the level ground, and turning the brooks into rivers. Our
party took shelter in the largest and strongest house in the
neighborhood--one that had stood through several hurricanes, and was
thought to be proof against them.
"For two days the wind blew, and every hour it increased. By the second
night it was a fully developed hurricane whose velocity we had no means
of measuring. The rain fell tremendously; the lightning was vivid, and
almost continuous. The thunder followed the course of the storm; and
altogether the noise was so great that we had to shout to one another to
be understood. Our house shook like a rickety bird-cage, and many times
it seemed to be half lifted from the ground; but it stood through the
storm, and was the only one that did so.
[Illustration: AFTER THE STORM.]
"On the following morning the wind had died down to a moderate gale, and
we could venture out. The picture that presented itself cannot possibly
be described with anything like vividness. Cocoanut and bread-fruit
trees by the thousand had been thrown down or stripped of their leaves;
banana-plants were in the same condition; the grass was levelled, and
covered with mud and water, and not a house in the neighborhood remained
standing. In the cotton-fields not only were the leaves and bolls
stripped from the plants, but in many places the plants had been torn up
by the roots and lay in heaps. In Levuka many houses were blown down;
vessels were driven ashore, or broken to pieces at their moorings; and
the whole windward coast of the islands was strewn with wrecks. Many
foreign vessels that were known to be in Feejee waters, or near the
islands, were never heard of again, and they doubtless went down on that
terrible night. At Macuata, on Vanua Levu, the wind lifted a small
vessel bodily from the beach and blew it into a native village two or
three hundred yards away!"
[Illustration: COAST SCENE IN A CALM.]
The story of the hurricane led to various anecdotes of the South Seas,
and in this way the afternoon was passed until dinner-time. One man told
how a ship on which he once sailed was driven before a hurricane and
thrown upon a reef, where the waves dashed her to pieces. He was carried
into the comparatively smooth lagoon inside the reef, and saved himself
by swimming, all his companions being drowned. Fortunately for him, the
islanders among whom he landed were not cannibals, or he would have been
condemned at once to the oven. The cannibals of the South Pacific have
always regarded people shipwrecked on their shores as special gifts or
windfalls, just as the inhabitants of certain parts of the coast of the
United States are said to have regarded the cargoes of wrecked ships
less than a century ago. Of course he taught the natives many useful
things, and eventually married the daughter of the chief, and became a
chief himself when his father-in-law died.
[Illustration: LOST IN THE HURRICANE.]
Another man, who claimed to have visited half the islands of the
Pacific, endeavored to prove his assertion by asking our friends to step
inside for a few moments, where he removed his clothing and exhibited
samples of the tattooing of pretty nearly every group. "That clouded
pattern on my left leg," said he, "was done in the Kingsmill group,
while those squares and fancy stripes on the right leg were put on in
Samoa. My right arm and shoulder were done in the New Hebrides, while
the left side was the work of the best artist of the Marquesas Islands.
The fancy embroidery on my breast is of New Zealand, and that down my
back was done in Tahiti."
[Illustration: MOTA, OR SUGAR-LOAF ISLAND.]
Truly this man was a walking art-gallery of the Pacific Islanders, only
his hands and face remaining unmarked by the tattoo. When the inspection
was completed, and our friends had left the man to resume his dress,
Frank suggested that he would be a fine prize for a medical museum,
where his skin could be preserved after his death. Doctor Bronson agreed
with him, but the suggestion was not offered to the subject of the
conversation.
[Illustration: TWO-TREE ISLAND.]
The party returned to Suva by the steamer that brought them to Levuka,
and there a change of plans occurred. Doctor Bronson, with Frank and
Fred, proceeded to New Zealand by the regular mail-steamer, while
Colonel Bush, with the _Pera_, continued his cruise among the islands of
the Pacific. Our friends were sorry to part with their pleasant
companions and the splendid hospitality of the yacht, but they did not
feel justified in protracting their stay among the islands, since there
is a general similarity of the groups to each other, though they may
differ greatly in detail.
[Illustration: A YOUNG STUDENT.]
Frank and Fred regretted that they could not visit the Friendly, or
Tonga, Islands, the first destination of the _Pera_, but they consoled
themselves by reading what they could find on the subject. They learned
that the Tonga group was discovered by Tasman and visited by Cook, who
gave the isles the name of Friendly, on account of the apparently
amiable disposition of the inhabitants. They have a population of about
twenty-five thousand, and are farther advanced in civilization than
their neighbors of Feejee or Samoa. The Wesleyan missionaries have
converted them to Christianity; many of them can speak English, and have
learned reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography, and on the whole
stand high in the scale of education. The products of the Tonga Islands
are similar to those of the Feejees, and the group is also subject to
hurricanes, which are often very destructive.
[Illustration: STONE MONUMENT, TONGATABOO.]
The principal island is Tongataboo, which is low and level, of coral
formation, and about twenty miles long by twelve broad. Here the King
resides, and here, too, is the principal mission station, the King being
an earnest Christian, and a regularly ordained preacher in the pulpit.
He wears European clothes, has European furniture in his house, employs
an Englishman as his private secretary, and altogether is quite a
civilized gentleman. He has caused good roads to be made around and
across the island, and in other ways has made his little kingdom know
the advantages of the lands beyond the seas.
[Illustration: A VOLCANO IN THE PACIFIC.]
Fred was particularly interested in reading about a curious monument of
former days that is to be seen in Tonga, and of which the natives have
no tradition. It reminded him of the monuments of Easter Island, and he
made the following note on the subject:
"It stands on a grassy lawn in the interior of the island, and is so
surrounded by tropical growths that it is concealed from view until the
visitor is close upon it. It consists of three huge stones, two of them
upright like pillars, and the third resting upon them. This upper stone
is eighteen feet long, twelve feet wide, and fifteen feet above the
ground; resting upon it is, or was, an immense bowl of hewn stone, which
is supposed to have been connected with some of the religious ceremonies
of the people who erected this monument. But how they put the three
stones in their places is an unfathomable mystery."
Fred also wanted to see a famous cavern in one of the Tonga Islands
which can only be reached by diving into the sea, as the mouth is
completely under water at all times. A young Tongan found it while
diving after a turtle, and he afterwards utilized it as the place of
concealment of the girl with whom he had fallen in love, and who was the
daughter of a chief whose displeasure he had incurred. He persuaded her
to flee with him and follow him into the water; these women swim like
dolphins, and she dived after him and rose into the cave, which is
beautifully lighted by the phosphorescent rays from the water, very much
as is the famous Blue Grotto near Naples.
Here she remained for months, everybody wondering what had become of
her, and also wondering why the young man absented himself so
frequently, and always returned with wet hair. He carried her fruit and
fish to eat and a supply of mats for carpeting the stone floor at one
side of the cavern. One day his companions followed him, and dived where
they had seen him disappear. Thus they found the cave; but what became
of its inmates is not clearly recorded in the history of Tonga.
[Illustration: AN ISLAND CAVERN.]
It takes an excellent swimmer to make the visit to the cave without
danger of death from drowning. The entrance bristles with sharp points
of rock, and when a native dives he turns on his back and uses his hands
to keep himself clear of these dangerous obstructions. The captain of an
English man-of-war tried to enter the cavern, but was so severely
injured against the sharp rocks that he died in consequence.
We will leave the _Pera_ to pursue her course among the islands of the
Pacific, while we accompany Doctor Bronson and the youths on their
voyage to New Zealand and Australia. The mail-steamer _Zealandia_
carried them swiftly along, and on the morning of the fifth day they
were in sight of the shores which were their destination. From Suva to
Auckland, the former capital of New Zealand, is a distance of about one
thousand miles, and there is regular communication both ways monthly
between the two points. There is also steam communication between Sydney
and Feejee, about sixteen hundred miles--sometimes direct from one port
to the other, and sometimes by way of New Caledonia, which lies a short
distance out of the direct track.
The _Zealandia_ entered Hauraki Gulf, passing between the Great Barrier
and Little Barrier islands, and holding her course almost due south;
then, through the Rangitoto Channel, she turned, and the harbor of
Auckland was before her.
"Shall we have to wait for the tide?" Frank asked, as they passed Great
Barrier Island. "It often happens that we have to wait several hours for
a tide when we're all impatience to get on shore."
"We don't have to wait for tides at Auckland," replied an officer of the
_Zealandia_, to whom the query was addressed. "We can come in at dead
low-water and steam to an anchorage, or to the dock if we're ready to go
there. The least depth is thirty-six feet at dead low-water of the
spring-tide, and at the highest tides we have fifty feet.
"There is hardly a finer seaport anywhere," he added, "than Waitamata,
as the harbor of Auckland is frequently called by the New Zealanders.
It has, as I've told you, plenty of water at all times, and its
entrances are superb. Rangitoto Channel is the one generally used; the
other is Hieh Channel, and would be considered first-rate in many a
place I know of. Rangitoto is about two miles wide; the section of the
harbor between North Head and Kauri Point is about a mile across, and
therefore is easily fortified in case we have to defend it against a
hostile fleet."
[Illustration: ISLANDS ON THE COAST.]
"I see," said Fred, who had been studying the map, "that the island is
very narrow here."
"Yes," was the reply; "it is only six miles across; and if you examine
carefully you'll see a good harbor on the other side. That is the harbor
of Manakau, and there's a railway connecting it with Waitamata."
"It reminds me of Corinth, in Greece," said Fred, as he continued the
contemplation of the map.
"No doubt it does," said the officer, in response. "Auckland is called
the Corinth of the South Pacific; Corinth is now having a canal made
through its isthmus, and we hope to have one for ours in due time."
The steamer made her way direct to the wharf, and as soon as she had
made fast and the gang-plank was out, our friends stepped on shore in
New Zealand. Under the guidance of a fellow-passenger, they entered a
carriage and were driven up Queen Street, the principal thoroughfare,
to the hotel they had selected for a resting-place during their sojourn
in Auckland. They were favorably impressed with the activity that
prevailed on the streets, and the general evidences of business
prosperity. "A Missourian would call it 'a right smart place,'" said
Frank, as they were alighting from the carriage at the end of their
drive.
"Yes," responded Fred, "and even a New Yorker would treat its beautiful
bay with respect after seeing it as we did."
"Where did the city get its name?" one of the youths asked Doctor
Bronson.
[Illustration: AUCKLAND IN 1840.]
"It was named after Lord Auckland, First Lord of the Admiralty, and
afterwards Governor-general of India, by Captain Hobson, who founded the
city. Captain Hobson was sent here, in 1838, to organize a colony. He
saw this was a good site for a city, and accordingly he established the
capital here. It remained the capital until 1865, when a royal
commission moved the seat of government to Wellington, the latter place
being more centrally located. Of course the Aucklanders were not at all
pleased at the change, but their city is so well established
commercially that there is no danger of their being ruined by it."
From various sources Frank and Fred found that Auckland had a
population of nearly forty thousand within the municipality, and seventy
thousand in the city and suburbs. "It has," said Frank, in his journal,
"handsome streets, a great number of well-constructed public buildings,
such as post-office, custom-house, exchange, courts, Government offices,
and the other paraphernalia of a well-established city, and it has also
a fine museum, a public library, and a park and botanical garden. No
city would be complete without a cemetery, and Auckland is not behind in
this respect, as it has a very pretty one, and, as the French say, it is
well peopled.
"We were much interested in the Queen Street wharf, where we landed; it
extends nearly two thousand feet into the harbor, and affords facilities
for thirty or forty vessels to discharge or receive cargoes at once.
There are several other wharves, including a fine one, nearly completed,
at the end of Hobson Street. I have heard often of 'Hobson's Choice,'
and never knew exactly what it was. This city seems to have been
Hobson's choice, since Captain Hobson founded it; all I can say is, that
I shall have more respect for the old saw than I ever had before.
"You can get an idea of the commerce of the place when you know that
about two hundred and fifty sailing-vessels are owned here of an
aggregate burden of twenty thousand tons, and sixty-five steamers of
seven thousand tons altogether. It has regular steam communication with
Australian ports by the vessels of the Union Steamship Company, has a
monthly line to Feejee, and is a port of call for the mail-steamers
between Australia and California. The Northern Steamship Company of
Auckland has a fleet of thirteen steamers, principally engaged in coast
navigation, so that New Zealand is well served by its own boats.
"Of course the port has graving or dry docks for the accommodation of
the ships that need them. There was one three hundred feet long, and
forty-two feet wide, but it was found inadequate after a few years, and
now they are completing another five hundred feet long and ninety feet
wide. This ought to be long and wide enough; but if ships go on
increasing in size as they have been, it won't be a great while before
another and longer dock will be needed at Auckland as well as in other
ports."
While Frank was noting the foregoing points in regard to Auckland, Fred
was writing a few paragraphs relative to New Zealand. And first he
wondered how it came to be New Zealand instead of New England or New
Britain.
"That's easily explained," said Doctor Bronson, "by the fact that it
was discovered by the Dutch navigator, Tasman; the French and Spaniards
both lay claim to a previous discovery, but the evidence they offer is
very doubtful. Tasman was sent in 1642 by Van Dieman, Governor-general
of the Dutch East Indies, to explore the coast of New Holland. He made
the exploration and called the country Van Dieman's Land, in honor of
the Governor-general, but the name has recently been changed to
Tasmania. On this voyage he discovered this country, which he called New
Zealand, in honor of the province of his birth; he also discovered the
archipelagos of the Feejee and Friendly isles, and returned to Batavia,
having been absent only ten months.
[Illustration: VIEW OF AUCKLAND FROM MOUNT EDEN.]
"Look at the map," continued the Doctor, "and you will see that New
Zealand is divided nearly in the centre by a channel of the sea known as
Cook Strait. The two islands thus formed are known as North Island and
South Island, the former containing forty-eight thousand square miles,
and the latter fifty-seven thousand. Beyond South Island is Stewart
Island, which is triangular, and measures about thirty-six miles on a
side; taken together the three islands remind you of Italy, and are
shaped not unlike a boot with its toe towards the north. South Island
is sometimes called Middle Island, from its position between North and
Stewart islands.
[Illustration: MISSION STATION AT TANGITERORIA, NEW ZEALAND.]
"Cook Strait commemorates the great navigator who was killed on the
Sandwich Islands. He landed here in 1769, and took possession of the
country in the name of England. He made five visits altogether to New
Zealand, and introduced pigs, potatoes, sheep, goats, and other animals
and vegetables."
"Hadn't Tasman already taken the country for Holland?" said Frank.
"No," replied the Doctor, "he did not set foot at all in New Zealand. He
anchored in a bay in South Island, next to that in which the town of
Nelson now stands, and had an encounter with the natives who opposed his
going on shore. He lost four men in the fight, named the place Massacre
Bay, in memory of the occurrence, and sailed away without landing."
"How soon after Captain Cook's occupation of the country did the British
Government establish colonies?"
"Not for some time," replied Doctor Bronson. "In the latter part of the
last century and the beginning of this many American and English whalers
visited New Zealand, and year by year the knowledge of the country was
increased. Visitors usually got along well enough with the natives, and
were kindly treated; whenever there were encounters with the New
Zealanders they were generally caused by the misconduct of the visitors
themselves. Thus, in 1809, the captain of the English ship _Boyd_
flogged and otherwise ill-treated a native chief, and the followers of
the latter took a terrible revenge by killing no less than seventy of
the crew and passengers.
[Illustration: EARLY DAYS IN NEW ZEALAND.]
"On some parts of the coast the natives were for a long time hostile,
probably in consequence of outrages that had been committed by whalemen
and others. Some of their ideas of the white men were curious. The
natives paddle their boats with their faces towards the bow, and when
they saw the foreign boats coming to the shore they thought the men had
eyes in the backs of their heads because they rowed with their backs in
the direction of their course. Some of them thought the ships were great
birds, and their boats the birdlets or chicks.
"As in Polynesia, the missionaries were the pioneers of civilization in
New Zealand. They came here in 1814, and previous to that time only one
European, a shipwrecked sailor, is known to have lived among the
natives. The Church Missionary Society established a mission in that
year at the Bay of Islands, now called Russell--the mission party
consisting of Rev. Samuel Marsden, chaplain to the Government of New
South Wales, and three other ministers, Kendall, Hall, and King. They
were kindly received by the chiefs, and held their first service on
Christmas-day, 1814. Eight years later the Wesleyans established
missions in New Zealand, and sixteen years after that (in 1838), the
Roman Catholics did likewise."
"Then the missionaries were in advance of all Government colonization?"
said Fred.
"The Church Missionary Society and the Wesleyans certainly were," was
the reply, "as the Government did not send a resident official here till
1833. He had no power beyond that of writing reports of what he saw and
heard, and was felicitously styled by somebody 'a man-of-war without
guns.' There had been an attempt to form a colony in 1825, but it was
given up, and the sixty emigrants who came out from England returned in
the ship that brought them. The mission establishment at Kororareka, in
the Bay of Islands, became the nucleus around which a good many lawless
adventurers gathered. The bay was the resort of whale-ships, and in 1838
it was visited by fifty-six American, twenty-three English, twenty-one
French, one German, and twenty-four New South Wales ships. There was so
much lawlessness and crime that a vigilance committee was formed, very
much like the institutions of that name which have been famous in
California history.
"In 1837," continued the Doctor, glancing occasionally at a book he held
in his hand,[6] "an association was formed for the purpose of colonizing
the country, very much as India had been colonized by the East India
Company. It was styled the New Zealand Company, and was founded by Lord
Durham, and after some delay a surveying ship was sent out, followed by
several ships carrying emigrants. This was the beginning of the
colonization of New Zealand; the first settlement was made at what is
now Wellington, the capital, though it was then named Port Nicholson.
Auckland was founded soon after; and with the foundation of that city
and the establishment of a government, the colony was well under way. It
prospered for a while, and then, owing to quarrels with the natives,
there was a long period of gloom.
[6] "Forty Years in New Zealand," by Rev. James Buller.
"We will talk more on this subject by-and-by," said the Doctor; "just at
present we will use our eyes in studying the present rather than the
past."
With this hint the youths closed their note-books and returned them
carefully to the pockets where they belonged.
The youths were curious to see a Maori (pronounced mow-ry, the first
syllable rhyming with "cow"), and they had not left the steps of the
hotel before their desire was gratified. Their fellow-passenger from the
_Zealandia_ pointed out several of the aborigines of New Zealand, and
among them he recognized an acquaintance, who greeted him cordially.
Frank was disappointed at seeing the man dressed in European garb, and
looking altogether so much like an Englishman that he was not readily
distinguished from the men of British origin. He was fully six feet
high, muscular and well-formed, and had a slight tendency to corpulence.
His face was darker than that of the average Englishman, and about the
complexion of a native of the middle or south of France, and certainly
lighter than the southern Italian. Frank thought it could be described
as a light brown; but he was informed that these people are of different
hues, and the Maoris have twelve names to indicate as many shades of
color.
[Illustration: IN A STATE OF DECADENCE.]
The eyes of this specimen native were black, and his hair was also black
and slightly curly. As he talked he displayed a fine set of teeth; and
as dentists are unknown among the Maoris, it is to be supposed these
teeth were natural. His features were regular and symmetrical, the nose
having a slight tendency to an aquiline form, the lips large and well
developed, but not thick like those of the negro, and the mouth
capacious enough for all practical purposes.
After a short conversation with his friend the Maori passed on, and then
Frank learned that he belonged to one of the families of chiefs, and
could therefore be considered as belonging to the aristocratic branch of
the race.
"There are about forty thousand, or perhaps forty-five thousand, Maoris
in New Zealand at present," said the gentleman. "Two or three thousand
of them live on South Island, and all the rest upon North Island. The
families of the chiefs are readily distinguished by their superior grace
and dignity, just as the aristocratic part of a race is distinguished in
any other part of the world. When Captain Cook came here the Maoris were
savages and cannibals, though they had a patriarchal form of government,
and in several ways had made an approach to civilization."
"They practised tattooing, did they not?" one of the youths asked.
"Certainly," was the reply; "and some of them still do so, though the
habit is dying out. In another generation it will hardly be heard of any
more. The Maoris are becoming assimilated to the European population
around them. Many of them own houses and farms, have large herds and
flocks, and there are several Maori merchants and ship-owners. Many of
them are employed by the English settlers and merchants, and you will
find them on the railways and in the coasting steamers, where they make
good sailors and are generally liked by their employers."
Frank asked whence they were supposed to have come, and how long it
probably was since they settled in New Zealand.
[Illustration: A KAINGA MAORI (NATIVE VILLAGE).]
"They are of Malay origin," said the gentleman, "and according to their
traditions, which are unusually clear, they came here from either the
Sandwich or the Samoan islands, four or five centuries ago, in a fleet
of thirteen large canoes, which were followed by others. The names of
their canoes, the chiefs that commanded them, and the places where they
landed are carefully preserved in their traditions. They say that they
came from an island called Hawaiki, in the Pacific Ocean, and this is
thought to be either Savaii, in the Samoan group, or Hawaii in the
Sandwich Islands. Their language is so nearly like that of the Sandwich
Islanders that the two people can understand each other after a little
practice.
"They had no written language until one was made for them by the
missionaries, and the nearest approach to it was a knotted stick, by
which the wise men transmitted the names of successive chiefs. They had
a great many songs of love, war, religion, and other things, but these
are fast dying out, and so are their traditions and legends. Sir George
Grey collected many of their poems, myths, and fables, and published
them in a large octavo volume, and if you wish to know more on this
subject you can see the book in our public library."
[Illustration: CARVED NEW ZEALAND CHEST.]
Fred asked if they were diminishing in numbers as rapidly as the people
of the South Sea Islands had diminished since the advent of the white
strangers.
"Yes," was the reply, "but civilization has had less to do with their
reduction than the quarrels among themselves. When Captain Cook took
possession of the islands, it is thought there were 120,000 Maoris
living here; to-day there are less than 50,000. Before the whites came
here the Maoris were divided into eighteen nations or great tribes, and
the nations were subdivided into tribes, of which each had its chief
whom it acknowledged. Each tribal chief regarded the head of his nation
as his lord and obeyed his orders.
"The nations were constantly at war with each other, and then, too, the
tribes of any one nation might be at war among themselves. The Maoris
loved war for its own sake, vastly preferring it to peace, however much
it might inconvenience them. Some of their ways were peculiar, and quite
at variance with European notions or customs. Shall I tell you some of
them?"
The youths expressed their desire to hear more about this interesting
people, and their informant continued:
"Their wars were conducted with great ferocity, and the vanquished were
either enslaved by the victors or killed and eaten."
"That is not so very strange," said Fred, as the gentleman paused;
"savages in many parts of the world do the same thing."
"Of course they do," was the reply; "but they do not divide their
ammunition and supplies with their enemies in order that they can fight
on equal terms."
"Did the Maoris do that?" Fred asked in astonishment.
"Certainly they did, on several occasions that are known to the white
residents. While they were at war with the English they used to send
notice whenever they were about to make an attack, and they thought we
did not treat them fairly in not doing the same. After the last war one
of our officers asked a Maori chief why it was that when he had command
of a certain road he did not attack the ammunition and provision trains.
'Why, you fool!' answered the Maori, much astonished, 'if we had stolen
your powder and food, how could you have fought?'
"Once when one chief insulted another, the latter remarked that if chief
number one had not known his own superiority in arms and ammunition, he
would not have dared to behave in such a manner. Thereupon chief number
one divided his fighting material into two equal parts, and sent one
part to his enemy with an invitation to war.
"Sometimes two villages would get up a little war, and after fighting
each other all day, the inhabitants would come out of their forts
towards evening and talk over the day's sport in the most friendly way.
The next morning they would begin again, and keep it up during the
daytime, to meet in the evening for a social conference. An old
missionary used to tell how, in one of these local wars, he had known
the defenders of a fort to send out to their assailants that they were
short of provisions, and the latter would immediately send in a supply
of food. The same missionary said he had performed divine service one
Sunday between two hostile forts, the inhabitants of which came out to
worship, meet in the most perfect amity, and return, to resume fighting
on Monday morning.
"It is estimated," said the gentleman, "that between the years 1820 and
1840 more than thirty thousand Maoris perished in these inter-tribal
wars. Many perished in the wars with the English, and many others have
died in consequence of their contact with civilization, as in the
islands of the Pacific, some from intemperance, and others from
small-pox, measles, and kindred diseases, which were brought here by the
whites. At present wars among them have ceased, cannibalism is unknown,
fully one-half of the adults can read and write, and two-thirds of them
belong to the churches."
[Illustration: MAORI WAR CLUBS.]