War to the Knife 16

War to the Knife 16

"All the same, it was taken once, after a fairly long siege; and a

fine, bloodthirsty affair it was, by all accounts," said Warwick. "But

the garrison had been weakened."

 

"In what way?"

 

"The water gave out; food was short also. That they could have borne,

but they had nothing to drink for days before they gave in."

 

"This great fortress, for such it was" (wrote an eye-witness), "was

constructed by this singular people with due attention to the canons of

strategic fortification. It stood on a peak two thousand feet high, on

the summit of a tortuous forest range, girt on each side by precipitous

gorges and rugged intervening eminences.

 

"Triple lines of palisading guarded the front, while the crest of the

ridge was narrowed in wedge-like form to the rear of the _pah_. The

outer parapet, seven feet high, extended on each side to the edge of

the range, but was formed with angles near its junction with the cliff,

in order to cover completely an attacking party. The inner parapet,

more than twelve feet high, was guarded by sandbag loopholes to enable

the garrison to fire in safety. Covered ways, from parapet to parapet,

and pit to pit, protected the garrison in their movements."

 

This was one of the sights which he had "come out into the wilderness

for to see"--specially and in spite of its being a tolerably large

and important _hapu_, or section of the great Ngatiawa tribe, with

whom relations were certainly strained. His adventurous soul was

stirred within him, as he marked the position of the _wharepuni_, or

council-hall, imposing in size and ornamentation, elaborate though

rude; the clustering _whares_ or wigwams, each containing the family

unit complete; with men, women, and children, dogs and ponies, straying

about in careless intermixture; the warriors of the tribe holding aloof

in haughty independence, the "grave and reverend seigneurs" sitting in

a circle, indulging in converse--doubtless as to matters of state. It

became increasingly apparent to his mind that the affairs of such a

race deserved all the consideration which the most experienced, just,

and intelligent legislators could bestow.

 

As they approached, the stranger could observe that a certain degree

of excitement had already commenced to make itself visible. The men

who had been sitting arose, and those who were already standing,

relinquished their attitudes of dignified ease for those of watchful

attention, not unmingled with suspicion. The women left their work or

play (for among the younger ones several games of skill or address were

evidently in progress) and joined the expectant crowd.

 

Male and female, young and old, there could hardly have been less than

three hundred people gathered together on the comparatively small

plateau. From their point of view it had exceptional advantages, and

had doubtless been selected with foresight and judgment. Overlooking

the river, winding through a fertile meadow, which showed by its

careful and intense cultivation how the principal food-supply of the

tribe was furnished, it was protected by the almost perpendicular

river-bank, of great height, from sudden assault. An undulating stretch

of open or timbered country filled in the foreground, while in the dim

distance rose the giant form of Tongariro, cloud-capped, menacing,

in dread majesty and sublimity, and but a few miles to the eastward,

calm in the fading light, lay the placid waters of a lake. Strangely

beautiful as was the whole landscape, wanting no element which in other

lands excites wonder or arouses admiration, there was yet a feeling

of undefined doubt, amounting to suspicion of evil, as his eye roved

over the unfamiliar scene. This was confirmed, even deepened, as a

geyser between them and the lake suddenly shot to a height of fifty or

sixty feet in the air, while a hitherto unsuspected fumarole sent its

smoke-columns towards the firmament. Yet not a head was turned, not a

movement made by the group, "native and to the manner born." Geysers

and fumaroles were part of their daily life, it would appear.

 

"There may be differences of opinion as to the advantages of their

proximity," thought the white stranger, as he scanned the grand and

majestic features of the wide landscape before him, "but none can deny

their sublimity." He could scarce refrain from exclaiming aloud--

 

"Lives there the man with soul so dead,

Who never to himself hath said," etc.

 

If he had carried out the unspoken thought he would have raised

himself in the estimation of his newly found acquaintances, as no

nation has had a higher appreciation of elocutionary effort; and a

free translation by his guide would have doubtless confirmed the

_entente cordiale_. As it was, however, the few sentences uttered by

his companion, in which, among others, he recognized the words Pakeha,

Rangatira, and Mata Kawana, were sufficiently satisfactory. This

was, of course, after the formal greeting of "_Haere mai!_" had been

pronounced by the elders and principal personages of the assembly, as

well as by all the women, and the rank and file.

 

A venerable and imposing-looking personage, apparently of great

age, approached to greet the strangers, and, after exchanging a few

sentences of an interrogatory nature, pointed the way to an unoccupied

_whare_ of larger dimensions than the others. In this, Mr. Massinger

was told, through the interpreter, to place his possessions, and to

consider himself at home for the present. An adjoining tenement was

indicated, in a less formal way, as provided for his companion, the

difference of their positions being accurately understood. Indeed,

the socialists of the day would be rather scandalized at the gulf

which separates the Maori aristocrat, or _rangatira_, from the "common

people" (if one may use such an __EXPRESSION__) of the tribe.

 

The _rangatira_ was, indeed, a personage of no ordinary distinction.

Served from his childhood by his "inferiors," in the most true and

literal sense of the word; waited upon with deference, mingled with

apprehension, by the women, the slaves and the rank and file of the

tribal section, or _hapu_, to which he was born, no wonder that he grew

up with the traditional qualities imputed to the mediæval aristocrat.

 

He was the robber-baron of the Rhine; he was the untrammelled seigneur

of the time of Louis Quatorze; he was the piratical Viking of the

Norse legends.

 

He raided his weaker neighbours; he descended upon defenceless coast

settlements; he organized carefully thought-out plans of invasion,

alliance, or reprisal. He was comprehensively merciless in war, slaying

and enslaving at will. But he possessed, by the strongest contemporary

evidence, the corresponding virtues. He was brave to recklessness,

chivalrous to a degree unknown in modern warfare, sending notice of

attack, in ordinary cases, before the commencement of hostilities; and,

in well-authenticated instances, even forwarding ammunition to the

enemy who had run short of powder, invariably choosing death before

dishonour. And he was religious after his own fashion, recognizing

superior as well as inferior deities and supernatural personages, whom

it was important to honour and conciliate. He was at all times ready to

die for his principles, or in vindication of his dignity and hereditary

position.

 

Roland Massinger, when he found himself in full possession of the

_whare_, which had been floored with clean fern, and even adorned with

several bunches of the beautiful crimson rata and pohutukawa blossoms,

began to revolve the strange chain of circumstances which had led to

his finding himself the honoured guest of this sub-section of a more

or less ferocious tribe. Nothing imaginable could be more romantic;

at the same time, the situation was, at the best, only comparatively

satisfactory. The smouldering blood-feud between the races, already

dangerously fanned by the mistaken action already referred to, might

blaze up at any moment. Then, the war-spirit once aroused, and the

boding scream of the _Hokioi_ thrilling all hearts, the position of an

isolated European would be doubtful, if not desperate.

 

Of the risks and chances thus involved, however, our adventurer made

but little account. He had not come so far to abstain from exploration

of this wonderful country. It was not worse than Africa, whence many an

Englishman had returned rich and distinguished. Whatever happened, he

was embarked in the enterprise; would go through with it at all hazards.

 

With the addition of a small contribution from his store of provisions

to the _kumera_, pork and potatoes, together with a great dish of

_peppis_, or cockles, supplied in clean flat baskets, he made a

satisfactory meal, concluding, of course, with a pannikin of tea. He

had arranged his rug and blankets at one side of his rude chamber, and,

being reasonably tired with the day's journey, looked forward to a

night's rest of a superior description.

 

He walked a few steps from the door, and, lighting his pipe, gazed

upon the scene before him. The moon, nearly full, lighted up the

river, the meadow, the distant mountain, the dark-hued forest. No

civilized habitation was visible. No sound broke the stillness of

the night, save the murmuring voices of the dwellers in this strange

settlement of primitive humanity. Habitudes common to all societies,

rude or civilized, were not wanting. Women talked and laughed, children

prattled or lamented, as the case might be. There was the narrator of

events, the wandering minstrel, the troubadour or "jongleur" of this

later Arcadia, with his circle of interested listeners. The boys and

girls played at games, or walked in friendly converse, much as those

of their age do in all countries. The men were grave or gay, earnest

or indifferent, as elsewhere. Occasionally he caught the word _pakeha_

strongly accented, from which he gathered that his appearance and

movements had aroused curiosity, perhaps suspicion.

 

After a while he observed a small party or group of mixed sexes, which,

breaking up, moved in the direction of his abode. As they came closer,

he observed the guide walking among them. Coming to the front, as he

advanced to meet them, he inquired of him what it meant.

 

"They want you to go tomorrow and see the famous lakes and terraces.

I told them you were in a hurry, and must go back to the Governor

at Auckland." Upon this, the leaders of the party, among whom were

several young girls, raised a cry of dissent, making angry gestures and

sportively threatening the guide, while they pointed towards the east,

intimating that the proposed expedition was _kapai_ ("very good").

 

By the time the explanation had reached that stage, Roland found

himself encircled by these dusky maidens, who, with flashing eyes,

animated gestures, and caressing tones, sought to make the _pakeha

rangatira_ understand that the arrangement would be much to his

advantage.

 

The guide spoke to them in the native tongue, extolling the importance

and wealth of his patron, and rather deprecating the expedition, as

inconsistent with the responsible duties which were his peculiar

province. However, such was the persistency with which they urged their

argument, that, after asking for a literal translation of the several

inducements held out, Roland pretended to waver.

 

"How long will it take," he inquired of his guide, "to go and return?"

 

"Not more than two or three weeks," he returned answer.

 

"And are the natives much the same as these?"

 

"No great difference, except that they are more expert in getting money

out of travellers."

 

"Will any of these young people go with us?"