THE SCOUT THAT FAILED
(_Told by the Kia Tangata_)
Scouting, like every other sort of business, has its ups and downs,
and a scout may often fail to obtain the information he has gone out
to gain, through no fault of his own. He may even lose the number of
his mess, be captured, or have to ride or run for his life,
notwithstanding the fact that he has played the right game from the
start, until something happens, and he fails, frequently through bad
luck, or because the vigilance of the enemy renders it impossible to
achieve success. It has been my lot, as it has been the lot of many a
better man, to fail frequently while scouting, and on more than one
occasion I have been spotted by the enemy and have had to ride or run
hard to save my bacon, without completing the duty on which I had been
despatched. A yarn about one of these occasions may amuse you,
although there is but little information as regards scouting in it.
It was in the year 1869 that we were after Te Kooti and the rebel Hau
Haus in the Taupo district, and were building a chain of forts from
Napier to Lake Taupo, so as to cut off the Uriwera and east-coast Hau
Haus from the King Country and Taupo rebels.
Lake Taupo is a huge expanse of water on the high plateau in the
centre of the North Island of New Zealand, and is fed by many rivers,
creeks and boiling springs; but there is only one outlet to drain off
its superfluous water, and this is called the River Waikato, which
debouches out of the north-east corner of the lake in a deep and very
rapid stream, running east, then bends north and north-west, forming a
big bow; then turning to the north it eventually makes a sharp turn to
the west, and flows into the Pacific Ocean south of Manakau Harbour.
This river, fed as it is from the big lake and also by innumerable
tributaries, is, although not very broad, a most dangerous one to
cross, especially while it is descending from the high plateau, as it
either rushes through high banks or tumbles in foaming cataracts among
large rocks until at last, as if tired with its exertions, it becomes
a well-behaved, navigable river, and forms what was in early times one
of the only roads into the interior of New Zealand; but during its
whole course from the lake to the ocean it is a dangerous one to play
with.
On the precipitous south bank of this river, some 200 yards from the
lake, we were, in 1869, building a redoubt called Tapuaeharuru (the
Place of Sounding Footsteps), and it was from this fort that I was
ordered to ride to Te-Niho-te-Kiori (the Rat's Tooth), an enormous
pinnacle of rock that springs from the ground just where the river
starts on its long flow to the north. I was therefore, as it were, to
ride along the string of a bent bow and, if successful in reaching
this rock, to try and open communications with another column supposed
to be in its vicinity.
It was not what some people might call a safe journey: road there was
none, and the route I had to take was through country that, although
it could not be called mountainous nor thickly bushed, was covered
with manuka scrub and wire grass, with here and there a clump of heavy
timber, while an occasional column of snowwhite steam, rising into the
air, denoted a boiling spring. These columns were of different
magnitude, and as I knew which side of the river the principal geysers
were on, and their situation, as seen from the river and fort, they
proved most useful landmarks to me later on in the day.
At daybreak one lovely morning I plumped my saddle into a canoe and
was ferried across the stream, my horse swimming astern, and on
gaining the bank, after drying his back, I carefully saddled-up, lit
my pipe and, with a cheery "So long" to the men who had paddled me
over, mounted and rode away.
As soon as I was out of rifle-range of the camp I was in No Man's
Land, and every native I met would be an enemy. I had twenty-five
miles to ride to get to the Rat's Tooth, and had to depend entirely on
my own wit and the good qualities of my horse to save my hair, in case
I fell across any parties of wandering Hau Haus. My orders also
directed me to look out for any signs of the enemy, and in case I cut
a spoor I was to prospect it and try to ascertain if it were the track
of a Taua (war party) or not.
The horse I rode was indeed a noble brute. Standing fifteen hands, he
possessed every quality that a scout's horse should. Not only was he
very well bred, fast and strong, but he combined the manners of a
lady with the courage of the lion, could scramble like a cat and swim
like a fish; and all these qualities he was destined to display before
that day was over. As, if possible, I was to return the same day, I
rode light, carrying nothing on my saddle except half-a-feed for my
horse and a couple of biscuits for myself. I wore neither tunic nor
sword, but carried a carbine, with the usual revolver and knife, while
my dress consisted only of a smasher hat, shirt, breeches and boots,
with very short-necked spurs.
"There is nothing half so sweet in life as love's young dream," sings
the poet, but I'll gamble that a smart canter on a high-bred,
free-going horse beats dreaming all to fits, and is much better for
you. Anyhow I thoroughly enjoyed the first part of that ride through
the sharp, clear air, notwithstanding that I had to keep every sense
on deck, and my thoughts, concentrated by looking out for an enemy or
for hostile spoor, were occupied with far sterner matters than love or
dalliance. For the first six miles or so I made good progress, the
ground being fairly open and the obstacles quite insignificant; but
then I reached a part where a chain of heavily bushed hills ran on my
left hand for some miles, the river being six miles to my right. The
pumice-stone flat over which I was riding was here much cut up by
gullies running from the hills to the river; some of them containing
creeks, the remainder being dry, but all of them with nearly
perpendicular sides, which, except in places, were not to be
negotiated by horse or man. As the depth of them varied so did the
direction, some of them running into one another, while the others
ran direct to the river. These I had to cross, and it was very nasty,
dangerous work, in more ways than one.
First of all I had to look for a place where my horse could descend
into the bed of the gully, at the same time looking out for a place on
the other side up which we could scramble. This took time, as
occasionally I had to ride a considerable distance up or down the edge
before I could find a place suitable either to descend or to get out
again; and it would have been an act of madness for me to have gone
down into one of these ravines without having spotted a way of getting
out again. Yet, at the same time, cross them I must. Again I had to
make mental notes of every crossing, and take bearings, so that I
should remember each gully and how to get back. I never forgot for a
moment I was in an enemy's country and that perhaps my return journey
might be expedited by a taua; besides, I had to keep my eyes open for
an ambush, as it was quite possible I had already been spotted from
the hills, among which many Hau Haus might be lurking, as the Maoris
always make their plantations in the bush.
I had crossed some ten of these gullies when I came to a very big one,
about forty feet deep and perhaps fifty yards broad. With trouble I
could get down into this, but could not see, although I rode a
considerable distance along its edge, any way of getting out on the
other side. There was, however, another gully running into it that
apparently took a northerly direction--the way I wanted to go--and if
I entered this one and followed it I might be able to regain the
level of the plain farther on.
It was a very grave risk to run, but it was a case of Hobson's choice,
that or none; so, after a long look at the hills, to see if I could
spot any signs of danger from them, I hardened my heart, descended
with a nasty scramble and made for the entrance of the gully I had
seen from the plain. I had no sooner reached the mouth of it than I
reined up sharply, for there, clearly defined, and not twenty-four
hours old, were the tracks of at least twenty, perhaps thirty, horses
that, coming from the north, had turned to the right on reaching the
big gully and proceeded towards the hills. As there was no spoor
returning, it was evident that a number of the enemy must be located
in their bushed recesses, and, in case they should have spotted me,
they would most certainly do their best to cut me off. Yet, as their
horses had used the gully, there must be a way out of it, and if I
made a push for it I could take advantage of it to regain the level of
the plain; anyhow it was no use staying where I was. I must go back,
or go on.
Naturally, I was keen to complete my duty; so as soon as I had taken a
good look at my carbine and revolver I entered the gully and rode
forward at a steady pace. For nearly a mile it ran with a few bends
due north, the bottom of it being smooth and the sides perpendicular.
Then the bed began to rise with a gentle slope, until it eventually
rose to the level of the plain. Its width was in no place more than
ten yards across, and it had been formed by some convulsion of nature
that had caused the surface to sink, and it looked as if it had been
gouged out of the earth. There are plenty of these freaks of nature on
the Taupo and Kaingaroa plains, sometimes like the one I was in,
accessible at the ends, and others with precipitous sides all round.
Well, I had just got to where the gradual slope began when I heard a
row behind me and, looking round, saw over twenty natives riding as
hard as they could in pursuit. They were still some 300 yards away,
and as soon as they saw I had spotted them they started yelling like
over-tortured fiends. It was certainly time for me to hump myself, and
I increased my pace so as to put a greater distance between us, while
I rapidly thought out the best plan to shake off this undesirable
company. Had I been on open ground I should have regarded the
contretemps with placidity, and perhaps have enjoyed picking off a few
of these howling sinners, but, mixed up as I was among the network of
vile gullies, it was no joke, and the sun was on their side of the
hedge.
The only feasible plan I could think of, was to follow the enemy's own
tracks, as where they had travelled with horses so could I, until I
was clear of these confounded gullies. You must remember I was quite
ignorant of this part of the country, never having crossed the river
before, and only knowing that if I kept due north I should cut the
river; and on its banks was the Rat's Tooth I had to find. The Hau
Haus, on the other hand, would know the country, and all the spots
where they could cross the gullies thoroughly, and would, of course,
try to cut me off. With these fiends in pursuit I should have no time
to look for crossing-places whenever I came across a ravine, and I
was sure these existed as far as the range of hills, which still
extended for some miles on my left, ran. Therefore I must follow the
natives' spoor, so as to strike their crossing-places, and make use of
them. Of course I might fall in with a fresh gang of Hau Haus, but I
had to risk that; needs must when the devil drives; and although I had
not Old Nick behind me in _propriâ personâ_, yet those who were, so
remarkably resembled him as to quite make up by quantity any
deficiency they lacked in quality.
I had not the least fear, bar accidents, of their being able to catch
me by riding me down, as my hard-fed, splendid-conditioned horse for
pace and staying powers was far and away superior to their
half-starved, grass-fed nags; and even if they had a good animal or
two, looted from settlers, among them, yet these would have so
deteriorated in their brutal hands as to be quite unfit to cope with
my gallant mount; besides, in a long chase, like this might be, riding
and handling would count a lot, and even if one or two did press me I
could back my carbine against their guns, as a Maori is a vile shot.
All these thoughts passed through my brain during the few minutes I
was galloping along the gully and gradually ascending to the level of
the plain. But Bobby Burns speaks the truth when he remarks that the
schemes of both mice and men are liable to go crooked; for my hastily
and maybe well-thought-out plan was all blown to blue blazes the
moment I emerged from the gully, as it was all I could do to swing my
horse to the right to prevent riding slap-bang into a big gang of
Maoris, some of whom were mounted.
This party were making for the entry I had just left, for as I shot
out of it the nearest of them was within ten yards of me. They
straggled in a diagonal line, about 100 yards long, across to what was
evidently the outlet to another gully, as in the hurried glance I took
of them I saw a horseman emerging as if from the ground. The presence
of these bounders, although not exactly astonishing, was most
undesirable, and I sent my horse along, so as to escape nearer
acquaintance with them; nor did they seem to be quite pleased with me,
as they all started yelling like fiends, and those who carried their
fire-locks capped at once fired them off in my direction, while with
one accord they all began to chase me.
It was high time for me to get out of that, but my horse's pace soon
carried me clear out of gun-shot danger, and I quickly edged away to
my left to try and find, when I reached the gully, which I knew must
be close in that direction, a crossing-place, so that I could get
round the enemy's flank and still carry out my duty. One thing I was
sure of, the Hau Haus would never give up the pursuit so long as there
was the ghost of a chance of catching me.
As I expected, I soon came to a ravine running east, towards the
river, and at the first glance saw that it was a teaser. Over twenty
feet in depth, its sides, composed of hard pumice-stone, were quite
perpendicular and unnegotiable, even by a monkey. I therefore had to
continue along the brink, while a loud, jeering yell made me
understand that the natives well knew there was no possibility of my
being able to cross it. I was annoyed, more than annoyed, and I
determined to solace myself by picking off one of the hilarious
bounders, but decided first of all to try the other flank. Letting my
horse go, I again crossed, diagonally, the enemy's front, only to find
myself, after a gallop of not more than 400 yards, brought up by a
similar gully. Again the jeering yell broke out, and I knew I was
cornered between these infernal ravines and the Waikato River.
I halted and turned so as to take a good look at the pursuing Hau
Haus, and determined to make it hot for the leading man, but was sold
again, as I found they had extended in line between the two ravines.
They were over a hundred in number, including at least forty mounted
men, these latter being scattered among the footmen, with the
exception of some eight or ten, who rode together about a hundred
yards in rear of the line, with the evident intention of strengthening
any part of it, should I charge and try to break through. This for a
moment I thought of doing, but on looking towards the spots where the
only two outlets I knew of were situated, I saw clumps of men
stationed at them, so I was convinced it was no use charging, at least
not at this period of the game.
The deliberate way the Hau Haus were advancing showed me that they
knew it was impossible for me to break away to either flank, and that
they were systematically going to pen me up against the river and try
to capture me alive. This I determined they should not do; somehow I
was convinced that my day had not yet come, and I had such an inner
conviction I was going to wriggle out of my scrape that I felt quite
easy about myself and only anxious about my horse.
The moment I halted the enemy began to poke fun at me. One shouted:
"Get fins, like a fish, for yourself and horse, then swim the river."
Another wag roared out: "Grow wings like a pigeon and fly back to your
home." This was advice which, although not solicited, could scarcely
be called rude. But another ribald ruffian was not only rude but
grossly personal, for, running out in front of the line, he howled
out, with the most insulting gestures: "Render yourself up to us; the
women are making ready the ovens, and I hunger for your flesh."
I shouted back, and my voice carried far in those days: "You whose
head is fit to be boiled" (the most awful insult in the Maori tongue),
"thou at least shalt not partake of the feast; go feed on the spirits
of your fathers." The old sneider carbine, though laughed at nowadays,
was true up to 300 yards, and the Maori was not more than 200 yards
from me. He had just begun to make some nasty, uncalled-for remarks
when I proved the correctness of my prophecy to him, by dropping him
in his tracks, thereby cutting short what might have been a most
eloquent oration.
A wild yell with a wilder volley answered my shot, and the line made a
kokiri (short charge) in my direction. I only lingered long enough to
shout in Maori, "I have caught the first man" (a most important and
lucky omen in Maori warfare), then turned and cantered away out of
rifle-range, as it would never do to have my horse wounded.
It was high time I should put on my considering cap and think out the
situation and my future movements. It would have been far more to my
advantage had they followed me in a straggling mob, as then I could
have picked off the leaders, and it would have denoted anxiety, on
their part, lest I should find some possible crossing by which I could
escape; but the quiet, methodical way they were going about their
business showed me that they considered my chance of getting away was
nil, and that they had made up their minds to risk nothing, that the
gullies could not be crossed, so that their intention was to drive me
before them to the river's bank, and hive me there at their own
convenience, the river being uncrossable.
But halt! Was the river uncrossable? I knew it to be a very dangerous
one, even for such swimmers as my horse and self, who together had
crossed many a bad river before; but I was also aware that the
natives' great dread of it was caused by superstitious nervousness,
just as much as it was caused by its actual dangers. Of course there
were very many parts of it quite impossible, but perhaps I might find
a place where a determined attempt would have a chance of success.
Anyhow I would go and have a look at it.
The river was not more than three miles from me and I cantered
steadily towards it, so as not to tire my horse, but still give me
time to examine the banks and select the best places to enter, and get
out of it, provided I should make up my mind to risk the crossing.
It did not take me long to reach the bank, and I rode along it from
one gully to the other. Both of these ran down to the water's edge,
and the bank of the river near both of them was fully twenty feet
high, and perpendicular; but half-way between them was a natural
depression in the plain, that ran at a gentle slope down to the bank,
where it was only four or five feet above the water, which was very
deep right up to the bank. This depression slanted upstream, a point
in my favour, and this was evidently the place I must take-off from.
The river was indeed a noble one, quite 200 yards broad, and evidently
of great depth. Its enormous volume of water, forcing itself along,
confined by the high banks, reminded me of a big fat boy buttoned up
tight in a suit of clothes far too small for him, wriggling and
writhing about, trying to make them more comfortable.
I next turned my attention to the other side, to see if I could spot a
place up which we could scramble. The far bank, though lower than the
one I was on, was still very steep, and I knew there must be a great
depth of water under it; but some 200 yards downstream the land ran
out to a point, and there was just the possibility of my horse finding
footing there. The current also seemed to set from my side of the
river towards this point, and if so it would help me enormously. I
tested this by tearing off a branch from a bush and throwing it in,
when I saw it rapidly swept towards the spot I hoped to make. The rate
at which it was carried also gave me some idea of the tremendous rush
of water, the surface of which seemed to writhe and winkle as if in
mortal anguish, while the numerous whirlpools informed me what a
furious undertow there must be.
Great was the risk we should run in attempting to cross, yet under the
circumstances I determined to run it. I felt certain I was not going
under that day, and anyhow a clean death in the sweet, cool water of
the river was far preferable to being turned into long pig by my
brutal pursuers. Then again they might kill my horse and catch me with
sufficient life remaining in me to make it worth their trouble to
torture it out of me. No fear, I wanted none of that; the river was my
dart, especially as my old nurse had always assured me of quite
another kind of death than drowning, and, sure, she was known in my
part of the world as a knowledgable woman.
The few minutes I had sat and watched the stream at the taking-off
place, I had talked to and explained matters to my glorious horse.
What's that you say? a horse can't understand you? Rot! you taxi-cab,
motor-busing new chum. A horse you have treated as a pal, and not as a
slave, will understand any simple matter you explain to him, far
better than the ordinary Englishman can understand the beauties of
tariff reform. Bear that in mind, you mud-splashing, dust-creating
greenhorn, if you ever want to become worth your salt on the frontier.
Anyhow, my horse understood me, and I rode up to the plain again.
The Hau Haus were not far off, and when they saw me regain the level
they evidently thought I had funked the river and was going to try to
escape on terra firma, for they saluted me with loud laughter and
jeers. Unbuckling my wallet straps, for I had them on my saddle,
although I had left the wallets themselves behind me, I carefully
fastened my carbine across the pommel of the saddle and also crossed
the stirrups. Then, as a farewell to my pursuers, I shouted: "O ye
slaves and dogs, I go to bathe in the Waikato; come with me, if ye be
not afraid." I turned my horse and, gripping my saddle, with thighs
and legs like a vice, I started at a canter down the slope,
increasing my pace and urging him on with my voice, until at last we
charged the river at full gallop. The noble animal knew well what I
expected from him, for as soon as I gave him his head he pointed his
ears and, gathering himself together at every bound, without a swerve,
the slightest balk, or the least hesitation, measured his take-off to
a nicety, and leaped far out into the air. I was quite prepared for
the plunge. I had twisted my hand well into his mane, and had taken a
deep breath as we made the spring. I felt the rush through the air,
and saw the shining water below us, that seemed to rise and meet us,
but I felt no shock; for although we must have raised the deuce of a
splash, and must have sunk somewhat, yet we seemed to come to the
surface immediately, and the first sensation I noticed was the current
tugging at me, as if trying to pull me out of my saddle.
We had taken the water exactly as I hoped we should do--that is, with
the horse's head turned well upstream--so that the tremendous force of
the current, although it swept us rapidly downstream, yet carried us
diagonally across it. My horse was swimming deep but magnificently,
and was not a bit flurried or nervous, and although the current kept
tugging at me I had small trouble in retaining my seat, while I eased
him in every way I could, talking to him and encouraging him the whole
passage. The crossing seemed to take but a very short time, and I saw
we should reach the bank above the point. I was very glad of this, as
the current ran round the point like a mill sluice, and I did not know
how it set on the other side, or what sort of a bank there was round
it. We neared the shore, and I turned the good nag's head towards it,
for him to make his effort, but feared the water would be too deep, as
although the bank sloped, yet from the water it looked very, very
steep. Just as we reached it I felt the noble animal give a tremendous
heave, with a mighty rearing plunge; his hind feet must have touched
bottom, for he landed with both fore feet on the bank. Like a flash I
was over his withers, taking the reins with me, and scrambled to my
feet on the slope. It was with difficulty I could keep my footing, but
I managed somehow, and, tugging at the reins, I shouted his name and
encouraged him all I knew. Gathering himself together, he made another
tremendous spring and, with me scrambling in front of him, in a few
bounds he reached the top, where I lavished much praise and many
endearments on him, these being cut short by the song of an Enfield
bullet as it whistled over us; so I led him under cover, loosed his
girths, unbuckled my carbine and returned at once to the bank. We had
crossed, they might try, and as I had had more of their company than I
desired, I intended my carbine to dissuade them; I examined its breech
and found that, notwithstanding its bath, it was in good working
order, so that was all right. My appearance was greeted with yells, a
straggling volley and a frantic war-dance. I never lack in politeness,
so, to return their compliments, I danced a step or two myself,
shouting, "Come to me, come to me"; then, dropping to a prone
position, I took careful aim at a Johnny who was executing a _pas
seul_. My shot spoiled his performance, for he sat down suddenly and
was quickly removed by his friends.
I have heard that actors retire gracefully from the stage when the
gods express their disapproval by heaving defunct cats and doubtful
eggs at them, but I should think they would greatly expedite their
movements if a man opened out with a carbine. Yes, they would quickly
leave a clear stage; at least it was so in this case, as the company I
disapproved of, cutting their dances short, dispersed in a moment,
taking their wounded man with them, and hastened in their exits by two
more bullets, both of which, I fancy, touched meat.
The Hau Haus having retired, I returned to my horse, removed the
saddle and gave him a good rub-down with a handful of fern; then we
lunched together. His oats were none the worse for their ducking,
while my biscuits, if pulpy, were palatable, and we enjoyed them. The
sun quickly dried me and we made for home. There was no chance of
reaching the Rat's Tooth from the side I was on; besides, I considered
it my duty to inform my colonel of the presence of the Maoris. Another
thing, what were they doing there? I suspected they had large
plantations of potatoes in that bush, and that when they blundered up
against me they were on their way to dig them up and had brought their
horses to carry them away on. If my conjectures were right, I now knew
where to find them.
After a hard, scrambling journey over fern ridges we reached the fort,
and I reported to the colonel, who babbled a bit at my failure to
complete my duty, but was quite pacified when I told him my
conjectures about the potatoes. He was not an Irishman, true, but he
dearly loved a spud, and if my ideas about them turned out correct,
the capture of these potatoes would be of enormous value to us, as the
Government were at their wits' end how to keep us and our horses
supplied with rations, while the loss of them, to the enemy, would be
very severe.
That night a strong force, on foot, under my guidance, crossed the
river and made for the big gully where I had first seen the spoor. We
made a smart night's march, hoping to surprise the enemy and catch
them on the hop. In that we failed, their outposts being well on the
alert; but in the ensuing skirmish we killed a few of them, captured
all their horses and an immense quantity of potatoes, large numbers of
these having been already dug up and packed ready for transport, so
that my friends the Hau Haus had worked hard for nothing, except our
benefit, and I felt very pleased. Was I spiteful? I wonder.
But somehow, now I have spun the yarn out, something seems to have
gone wrong with it; for when I come to look at the heading it
distinctly states that the tale is to be a yarn about the Scout that
Failed. And now I come to think it over, I was really not scouting at
all, but only trying to open communications with another column,
though to do that is certainly the work of a scout, and I moreover was
a scout, but yet I was not scouting. Then as to Failure. Sure if I did
fail to find the Rat's Tooth, faith! I found the spuds.
Therefore the title is a misnomer or I've put the wrong yarn to the
right title, or the wrong title to the right yarn, but anyhow,
failure or not, you've the yarn, so digest it and make the best of it,
as we did the potatoes; and I assure you there was no failure about
them. And as now this finale has bothered me as much as those
confounded gullies did, I must confess that after partaking of perhaps
too many of those spuds, and very good they were, I broke out into
poetry in honour of my glorious horse. I will only give you one verse,
so don't run away:
"A man may love a bow-wow, or a man may love a girl,
He may prate on points of pedigree, or rave about a curl,
But a trooper can love both of these, in a tiny way of course,
For most of his affections are lavished on his horse.
Oh, some men love a steamer yacht, and some love jaunting cars,
And I hear that in a big balloon men soon will visit Mars;
But here's a toast you all must drink, refuse it if you can,
A health to the noble warhorse, God's greatest gift to man."
Don't throw pannikins at me, but blame potatoes and ration rum taken
on an empty stomach. Good-night.