War to the Knife 37

War to the Knife 37

At midnight on the third day the march was recommenced and the cliff

path reached. Von Tempsky, with seventy men, made a start punctually,

as was his wont. Massinger felt doubtfully entertained at the idea of

swinging in mid-air, clinging to a rude arrangement of trailers, with,

perhaps, expectant Maoris at the top. However, he forbore remark, and

after he had seen Von Tempsky shin up the swaying half-seen line like a

man-of-war Jack, he felt reassured.

 

"What a leader he is!" thought he.

 

"'Alike to him the sea, the shore,

The branch, the bridle, and the oar.'

 

We are all in hard condition, luckily."

 

Between the precarious foothold on the cliff and the ladder of

withes--Warwick, by the way, was immediately behind him--he reached the

top safely.

 

"Here we are!" he said, as Warwick sprang up and stood by his side. "I

shouldn't care, though, to go _down_ the same way, especially if they

had crossed our track and decided to wait there for our return."

 

"They would find an officer and thirty men there," said Warwick. "Our

Von always takes care to leave a place open for retreat. Catch him

napping!"

 

Dawn found them in a deserted village, recently occupied, however, as

the fires were still alight. Pushing on across a gorge, smoke was seen

rising, and on the summit of the ridge a large clearing was sighted,

with a number of whares at the other end.

 

"There they are!" said Massinger.

 

"Those whares are only temporary," explained Warwick--"used by the

natives to put in a crop or take it up. I can see Maoris; they don't

see us, however."

 

The order came at that moment to extend in line along the forest edge,

behind a barricade of dead timber, thrown aside from the clearing.

This they climbed, but were immediately seen by the natives, who fired

a volley, mortally wounding a young officer and one of the Rangers.

The senior officer, next to Von Tempsky, was also hit. The attempt to

dislodge the enemy from some fallen timber, under cover of which they

were able to hold the attacking force in check, failed, owing to their

right resting on a cliff, not previously noticed. A smart skirmish took

place, however, in which the enemy was routed, leaving three dead on

the ground.

 

"Had the best of it," said Mr. Slyde after supper. "Not a glorious

victory, though, by any means. Two to one--bad exchange against

natives. Poor young Stansfield, too! Took me and Warwick all we knew to

get him down that beastly ladder."

 

"Poor chap!" said Massinger. "What spirits he was in when we started!

Stark and cold now. Fortune of war, I suppose."

 

"Bush-fighting not all beer and skittles," remarked his companion.

"Better luck next time."

 

One of the really "stunning engagements" (as Mr. Slyde phrased it) in

which Massinger and his two comrades took active part, was the fight

before Paterangi. The enemy's works were about three miles distant from

the headquarters' camp at Te Rore.

 

The sailors, under Lieutenant Hill, H.M.S. _Curaçoa_, had their camp

close to the landing-place, to which the _Avon_, with stores, made

daily trips.

 

The tars, to relieve the monotony of camp life, had got hold of

cricketing materials, and on fine afternoons the stumps were set up and

play carried on, _secundum artem_, as unconcernedly as if there was no

such thing as a Maori foe within a few hundred yards of them.

 

"Look at Von Tempsky!" said Slyde (the Rangers being at headquarters in

case any specially dangerous scouting was on hand.) "Cool as if he was

listening to a military band in Berlin. Trifle better music there, I

dare say. Picturesque-looking beggar, isn't he? Cigar in mouth, forage

cap always on the side of his head. Curls _à ravir_. Not our form, but

they become him. Wouldn't think he was the man that spoilt an ambush at

Mount Egmont, when the general made his point to point march through

the bush there."

 

"Just the man, I should think. But how was it?"

 

"Rangers, you see, marched with the column. Passing through thickest

spot, Von left track with his men and vanished. Troops thought took

wrong path. Sharp firing heard. Von reappears front of the column,

forcing his way through the supple-jacks, sword in one hand, revolver

in the other, knife between his teeth, dripping with blood. Ambush laid

for troops--destroyed it."

 

"No wonder everybody swears by him. I suppose these fellows would have

had a steady volley at the column?"

 

"Regular pot-shot. Sure to kill officers, besides twenty or thirty

Tommies. Might even have bagged the general. Great hand at the

bowie-knife, Von. Learned that in Mexico. Throws it to an inch. Great

weapon at close quarters."

 

"I dare say," replied Massinger. "I don't seem to take to it myself.

All's fair in war, of course."

 

"Suppose we have a bathe in the Mangopiko? It feels warmer this

afternoon."

 

This motion being carried, our triumvirate proceeded to the river-bank

with a party of the 40th, men who bathed there every day.

 

"The water's all right," said Warwick, "but I don't like this manuka

scrub. The river's not too wide, and there's good cover on the other

side."

 

"Surely there's no chance of there being natives so close to the camp?"

said Massinger, who thought Warwick a trifle over-cautious this time,

often as he had reason to admit his astonishing accuracy in all that

concerned woodcraft.

 

This occasion was not destined to be an exception, for no sooner had

they undressed than a volley from across the river showed that natives

_had_ been concealed on the opposite bank.

 

Fortunately, a covering party of twenty men under a lieutenant had been

sent with them, who immediately returned fire, and a sharp exchange

began. The sounds of the firing brought up a reinforcement from the

40th and 50th Regiments, under Colonel Havelock, who got to the rear

of the concealed natives, the same ti-tree which had screened them

serving to hide the troops. At an old earthwork they came suddenly

upon them. Captain Jackson of the Forest Rangers and Captain Headley

of the Auckland Rifles marched with the supports, eventually driving

the Maoris from their position in the earthwork. A hot rally while it

lasted, but a Victoria Cross was gained in it by Captain Headley, who,

under heavy fire and with his clothes riddled with bullets, carried out

a wounded soldier.

 

"D----d nuisance!" said Mr. Slyde, resuming his garments. "Left arms at

camp, or we might have had a throw in. Other chaps got all the fun. Oh,

here comes Warwick, _heavily_ armed, and no mistake."

 

It was even so. That resourceful henchman had bolted back to camp and

returned with his arms full of their carbines and revolvers.

 

"And, by Jove! here comes Von Tempsky and part of our company,"

exclaimed Massinger, unusually excited. "Was there ever such luck?"

 

No time was lost in joining the Rangers, who had just been ordered to

cross the river and clear the scrub.

 

Without a moment's hesitation, headed by Von Tempsky, they plunged

into the stream, and emerging like modern river-gods dripping with the

Mangopiko, rushed on the enemy. A desperate hand-to-hand fight ensued.

The natives retreated, leaving eight dead, side by side, amid the

trampled fern. The Rangers only had three men wounded, including Mr.

Massinger, in the arm--his first title to distinction, as having bled

in the cause of his Queen and country.

 

Like many other small wars and skirmishes, it led to complications.

A body of natives came out from the pah at Paterangi to help their

people. The skirmishers of the 40th were thrown forward to check them.

Five men killed and six wounded of the 40th, while the natives from

Paterangi lost over forty killed and thirty wounded.

 

Mr. Massinger's arm was sore enough that night, though he was loth to

admit it.

 

"'Quite enough to get,' as the soldier remarked in 'Pickwick.' Deuced

hot work while it lasted. New style of bathing-party. Have to look up a

tree before you sit under it next. Maoris everywhere."

 

"'All's well that ends well,'" rejoined Massinger, with his arm in

a sling. "Lucky that Warwick brought the carbines. I wouldn't have

missed that dash across the river for worlds. We also covered the rear

effectually, Von Tempsky marching as if he was on parade."

 

"He wasn't the only one who was cool," said Warwick. "The

adjutant-surgeon stopped the bleeding in your arm as steady as if he

was in the hospital tent. Bullets pretty thick, too."

 

The colonel commanding did justice to the merits of all concerned, and

when Lieutenant Roland Massinger's name occurred in the list of wounded

among the Forest Rangers, under Major Von Tempsky, that gentleman felt

himself more than recompensed for any trifling inconvenience he might have undergone.