ONE MYSTERY THE LESS
'The _réveillé_!' laughed Terence, as he awoke next morning to the
cheerful notes of a bugle. 'For a moment I thought that I was back
with the old regiment.'
'Oh, the soldier fashion in which we do things here would not
disgrace the "old regiment," as you call it,' said George, smiling.
'Your own red coat, by the way, has a suspicious newness about it.
Did you sleep well?'
'Never better. Ah, George, old fellow, I owe----'
'Here's breakfast,' broke in George hastily, giving him a mighty
smack on the back, to the great delight of Kawainga, Star of the
Dawn, who appeared with two satellites, bearing the materials for a
substantial breakfast.
Soon they were again upon the march, and Te Karearea, who had taken
every precaution against a surprise, jogged peacefully along, smoking
a looted cigar, and listening with interest to the story of the
youthful adventures of George and Terence, whom he addressed as Mura,
or The Blazing One. The name had much the sound of Moore, but it was
the appearance of the Irishman, with his red coat and flaming head of
hair, which had really suggested the title.
'It is good to hear of such friendship,' the chief said, beaming upon
the pair during a pause in their narration. 'Surely Mura will not
wish to leave us now that he has found you, Hortoni. Persuade him to
stay, my friend.'
George looked him in the eyes and laughed quietly. He translated to
Terence, but made no reply to the chief, who did not pursue the
subject.
'What did he mean by that remark, George?' inquired Terence as they
lay in the shade during the midday halt.
'I can't say exactly, for one never knows what the crafty beggar is
up to.' He looked cautiously round, but as no one was near, went on:
'He may even wish you to try and escape, in order to--to----'
'To find an excuse for knocking me on the head,' supplied Terence.
'Then he'll be disappointed, for I'll not leave you--unless escape
meant a good chance of helping you out of the trap. In that case I'd
go this minute.'
'I am sure you would, dear old fellow!' said George affectionately;
'but we will stick together as long as possible. Only, if the chief
does not parole you, then----' He broke off short, staring up at Te
Karearea, who had, as usual, approached unobserved.
'It looks as if the rascal possesses the power to render himself
invisible at will,' said George disgustedly, when the chief had
withdrawn after informing them that the march was about to be
resumed. 'We shall have to go warily, Terence; for there is no
knowing how much he may have heard.'
'Much good may it do him,' remarked Terence airily. 'And if it comes
to knocking on the head----' He bent his arm. The great biceps
contracted, bulging out the red sleeve. Let that enormous mass of
muscle be extended with the weight of the body behind it, and the
fist in front of it would surely trouble somebody's weak nerves.
George smiled. 'Oh, I know what you can do; but a couple of hundred
to one is long odds. Meantime, you must not run the risk of
offending him; for, remember, he is utterly unscrupulous. In some
mysterious way I appear to be necessary to him; but were it
otherwise, he would kill me without the slightest compunction. Of
that I feel sure. Come! it is time we joined him.'
Four days later, towards sunset, they debouched from the forest
through which for the last sixty hours they had toiled wearily along
a narrow, difficult track. It had been a terrible journey for the
Maoris, but far more so for the white men, and all alike rejoiced
when at last the dreadful bush lay behind them, and they beheld the
river which alone divided them from the _pah_ which was their goal.
As was usual with the Maori fortresses, the position was one of
immense strength. The island plain, at the back of which rose a
considerable hill, was a swampy area overgrown with flax, and
extended for nearly a mile on every side of the eminence but one,
being itself enclosed by a forked ravine, at the bottom of which the
river roared and swirled among giant boulders. No doubt, at some
far-off day this roughly level plain had itself been covered with
forest; but dead and gone generations of Maoris had cleared away the
offending wood, so that no one could now approach the _pah_
unobserved. The single side of the hill unflanked by the plain was
simply a vast, precipitous rock-face, having for its _vis-à-vis_ the
equally precipitous opposing wall of the ravine, into whose depths it
dropped a sheer two hundred feet, the twin cliffs forming a cañon
through which the river raced on its way to unite again with the main
stream.
The place was, indeed, almost inaccessible when once the only
approach from the forest was barred. This was merely a rough bridge
across the river on the side furthest from the hill, and when the
tree-trunks forming this were withdrawn, a handful of men could
easily hold the island against an army.
But even were the bridge to be rushed, the ascent of the hill was
made difficult by carefully laid trenches and rifle-pits, and,
finally, the _pah_ was encircled by a double row of palisades of
great height and immense strength, the chinks between the massive
logs being filled with hard-baked mud and clay. The palisades were
loopholed above, and a rude platform ran along the inner side of each
row, where men might lie, secure themselves, and fire upon an
advancing foe.
It would indeed be a desperate and determined foe who would venture
to attack, much more succeed in taking, the _Pah O Te Mate_--the Pah
of the Slain, the Fortress of Death.
As it happened, the weary travellers were not destined to enter the
_pah_ just yet; for as the vanguard swung out of the forest and
prepared to cross the hundred yards or so of cleared ground between
them and the bridge, they saw a sight which halted them as
effectually as though some sudden stroke had robbed their limbs of
all power.
But they could not stand still, for those in the rear pressed them
on, and presently the little clearing became almost blocked with
armed men vainly striving to preserve their customary proud and
resolute bearing, and with trembling women who did not attempt to
hide their extreme terror.
In the midst of the confusion the voice of Te Karearea was heard
angrily demanding the cause of the block, but no sooner had the chief
forced his way to the front than he, too, stopped as if compelled,
all signs of anger faded from his face, and he stood meek and
inoffensive, his hands crossed upon his broad chest, his plumed head
bowed low.
And what was the cause of all this fear and commotion? Standing
alone at the bridge-head was one old man. His figure was bent, his
snow-white hair fell, a tangle of locks, below his shoulders, and the
hand which grasped the staff upon which he leaned, trembled as it
clutched the crook. Yet there was fire in his rolling eyes, and a
hint of mastery, if not of menace, in the gesture with which he flung
up his free hand, forbidding the advance; and his voice, far from
piping in the thin treble of extreme old age, rang stern and
sonorous, as the liquid Maori speech gushed from his venerable lips.
He was Kapua Mangu--the Black Cloud--the _Tohunga_, and most notable
of all the Maori wizards.
At the old man's bidding, Te Karearea advanced and listened
respectfully to some words spoken for his ear alone. Then, turning,
he rapidly issued an order which sent the warriors tumbling back into
the forest, while side by side with the great magician, the chief set
off across the plain in the direction of the _pah_.
'So we are not to enter the fortress to-night,' George explained to
Terence as they followed the Maoris. 'According to the old
gentleman, a particularly malignant demon has taken up his quarters
on the hill, and any attempt to pass him would be fraught with dire
peril. To-morrow we are to make a kind of state entry.'
'Which means that the ancient rogue has reasons for keeping us off
the hill to-night.'
'Very likely; but it won't hurt us, fortunately. What do you say to
supper and early bed?'
'I'm with you there,' agreed Terence, 'for I'm dog tired.'
So they hunted about until they found pretty Miss Kawainga, who soon
provided them with an excellent meal, after which they selected a
comfortable spot for their bivouac, spread their blankets on the
fern, and were quickly asleep.
An hour before midnight something awakened George, and he sat up and
looked in all directions for the cause. Everything was profoundly
still, and presently he made out that the camp was deserted, not a
single Maori being visible anywhere. Wondering sleepily what the
chief was about, he noticed that their fire had dwindled a good deal,
and, knowing that the early hours of morning would be cold, crept out
of his blanket-bag and rose, yawning, to replenish it. Hither and
thither he moved, gathering sticks and fern, when suddenly the wood
dropped through his hands, he turned cold, and his heart throbbed
heavily under his creeping flesh. He drew in a deep breath, and his
strong will and high courage fought desperately against the unnerving
sensations of the moment. For once again the quiet night was rent by
those weird, awful sounds which had so unmanned him during that
dreary midnight hour aboard the brig a week ago.
'_Hau-hau! Hau-hau! Pai marire, hau-hau! Hau-hau!_'
From afar the horrid noises screamed through the shivering forest,
mixed now and again with a singular gabble of words which somehow had
the sound of English, though the distance made it difficult to judge.
George made a fierce effort to collect himself. Terence had suffered
enough already, and for his sake he must not give way. But to his
intense surprise he saw the object of his concern sitting up and
listening with an expression of deep interest on his face.
'Queer row, isn't it?' said Terence. 'Do you see those lights on the
hill behind there? That is where they are. Perhaps this explains
the mysterious confab between the chief and the wizard. I vote we go
and have a look at them; we may never get another chance.'
George could scarcely believe his ears. The noise which now, as
before, so shocked him, was accepted by Terence as something merely
interesting. Still, the sight of his friend's unconcern did much to
steady his own jumping nerves.
Receiving no answer, Terence looked up. The dying fire added to the
ghastliness of George's face. 'Hullo! What is it, old fellow?' he
cried, rolling out of his bag. 'Are you ill?'
'I plead guilty to a bad fit of the horrors,' answered George,
'though your coolness is rapidly convincing me that my bogy is not so
awful as I imagined it to be. I never was so frightened in my life
as when I first heard those terrible sounds at dead of night aboard
the brig. I did not speak of it to you when we met, because it had
nothing to do with my story. If you know what the noise means, for
heaven's sake tell me at once.'
'I thought you knew all about it,' replied Terence. 'The row is
horrid, but simple enough in its origin. It is a part of the
religious service, or incantation, perhaps I should say, of the
Hau-haus.'
'Oh! And who may the Hau-haus be? Men or devils?'
'Men, distinctly; but with a strong dash of the devil in them, too.'
'Are they Maoris?'
'Very much so. The same among whom you have been adventuring this
month past. Let us steal back to that hill and lay your ghost for
once and all. I'll tell you what I know as we go.'
'I'm with you,' agreed George. 'I'm thankful to have fathomed this
uncanny mystery. Hark! They are at it again.' Once more the unholy
clamour swelled upon the quiet air.
Even the sentinels had left the camp and gone, presumably, to the
hill, where, as they advanced, the friends could see great fires
blazing and vomiting clouds of smoke into the blackness of the night.
As they went, Terence discoursed in low tones of the rise and
progress of the Hau-hau religion, and its effect upon those Maoris
who had embraced it.
'I learned what I have told you from a friendly Arawa chief,' he
said, as they drew near the ravine which formed the approach to the
hill. 'He spun the yarn one night around the camp-fire, and by way
of illustration gathered a few of his men and surprised us a little
later with a very creditable imitation of the howling which so
disturbed you. I must own that, until I knew what it was, I felt far
from comfortable.'
'I don't blame you,' said George with a shudder. 'And there have
been many converts to Hau-hauism, you say.'
'Plenty; and to-day the Hau-haus are the fiercest and most implacable
of our foes. They have some very unpleasant customs, and that nasty
yowling, with its blasphemous invocation of the Holy Trinity, is not
the least atrocious of them.'
Their cautious march ceased now, and they began to crawl quietly up
the side of the ravine, from the plateau above which came the hum of
many voices.
'Te Karearea must have joined this sect before he was packed off to
Chatham Island,' said George. 'I remember that he said something one
day about being a priest among his own people.'
'Hush!' warned Terence. 'I hear them moving just above us.'
They flattened themselves against the side of the ravine and waited
their opportunity. Suddenly a succession of yells burst from three
hundred lusty throats, and the ground shook to the trampling of the
mob as they hurled themselves this way and that in their fierce
ecstasy.
'Now is our chance,' whispered Terence, and under cover of the tumult
they dragged themselves up the bank and lay flat among the fern at
the top.
What a sight met their astonished eyes!