REVENGE OF THE MAORI

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 2, Issue 114, 24 January 1940, Page 7

REVENGE OF THE MAORI

TAPU DISREGARDED - SETTLER'S CHILD STOLEN

The death of Ngoungou Hiltetene, the Ngati Pukeko chief who passed away last week, recalls the story of his wife, the little pakeha girl, Caroline Perrett, who was kidnapped by the Maoris in Taranaki sixty years ago, and whose whereabouts remained a mystery until 1929, 'when she was recognised in romantic fashion in Whakatane, by "her sister. The fine old lady is still living at Poroporo and here is her interesting story.

•Sixty-five years ago, when the 'wheel of racial hatred between Maori and Pakclia still was spinning, though slowly, a little girl of eight years was whisked away from her happy playground in the bush-en-circled homestead of her father and another. The Maoris, who thus requited what they deemed just revenge for a Pakeha wrong, made her one of themselves, and the little girl never saW woif parents again. Her mother died of a broken heart. Half a century later, two women .•sobbed hysterically as they unashamedly embraced each other in the streets of Whakatane —she who had felt the anguish of being wren--ched from her people, and her sister, who long since had quenched all hope of seeing her again. The little girl had grown up and was the wife of Ngoungou Hiketene, chief of the Ngati Pukeko, who died vat Poroporo last week. Sentry Hill was the spot where TVlaori and Pakeha came fiercely to grip on Majr 1, 1864, and it was here that the Maori Hau Hau prophet Avas killed along with many of his followers .

Since at good many of their kin -were buried in this neighbourhood, the Maoris regarded the ground as ■sacred, and when the white man •■commenced pushing his railways over and through this area, the "brown men resented it.

William Perrett had a small holding of land at Manutahi (now known as Lepperton), but for the most part he (lid small contracting jobs between his home and New Plymouth, about ten miles away. Perrett successfully tendered for the work of clearing the burial grounds, but it was not long beforfe the "Maoris, with whom he previously had been very friendly, tokl him 'that no good would come of his interference with the spirits of their dead,, whose resting-place was tapu.

In face of what he kneAV of Maoris and their beliefs, knowledge which Tie had acquired through close acquaintance with them in both war and peace, Perrett disregarded their warnings, comforting himself with the thought, maybe, that the war of subjugation was finished and com plete in its effects upon the minds -of the natives. Sting of Resentment. But the sting of resentment, although inscrutably suppressed for a time, at length leapt from its sheath, pinning a little girl to the crude, elemental life of the gum-fields of Whangarei, stabbing to the heart a familjy that idolised her. To the Maoris who had witnessed the spoliation of warriors' graves by Perrett and his men, some telling thrust seemed tire only way in which the spirits might be placated.

Combing of Countryside. Meanwhile, Government officials, neighbours and friends, pierced and combed the countryside for some sign of the child, but although they followed myriad trails, along river banks, through gullies and up heav-ily-wooded hillsides, their search ,\vas unavailing and at length they returned. Night and day, for a whole fortnight had they combed the surround ing bushlands, picking up signs here and there, marks and finger-posts which led them hopefully along a hill-top or across a stream, only to smash their hope in some woody cul-de-sac or watery morass, so cunningly, so completely had the native kidnappers hidden their tracks. Heavy of heart, almost physically sick with despair, Pcrrett returned to his work, almost dreading to hear what became of his little girl, Vhile his wife lay at home in a state of coma, or, at times, bordering upon dementia, Availing for the child which had been snatched from her side. But the weeks that followed and the months that came in train merged gradually into years and although the memory of Queenie, the quiet, placid little girl who had so suddenly been filched aAvay, seared deeply into their memories, yet never a word of her reached their cars.

was from his work on the permanent way, braced himself for the physical ordeal of brushing his way through the tangle of undergrowth and intertwining tree which lay before him, and for the mental blow he sensed would be waiting him at the end of the journey. Like a sharp thrust there came to him the memory of the day when he commenced his contract on the bloody battlefield of Sentry Hill, the day when some of his Maori friends warned hiin against pursuing his course, and of the ill it would bring to his family.

One morning, late in the summer -of 187-1, eigh l-years-old Caroline, known to all affectionately as Queenie, was sent down to the clearing to fetch the mwo cows which supplied the Perrett family with milk and lmtter. Some time later her. mother, who Avas ill, asked whether Queenie had returned, as nothing had been seen of her since the cows were brought In, but was reassured by her daughter Mary, who said she thought Queenie would be playing with the other children. Bub the little girl did not return with the others, nor had she been seen sincc she went for the two cows. She could not be found. Perrett at that time was working some miles away and it was not until thirty-six hours later that, a special messenger staggered into camp with the news that Queenie had disappeared. The man told Perrett that Dick Bridle, a bushman, had seen her at about two o'clock on the afternoon of the day she left home for the cows, and she was then standing on a fallen log, crying bitterly, and surrounded by a band of stalwart Maori warriors. Before Bridle could appreciate what lay behind their movements, the Maoris disappeared and the child had vanished through an opening in the trees. And Perrett? Weary though he

Ever since the day when the Maoris pleaded with Perrett to discontinue his work on the battlefield which had bccomc doubly sacred by virtue of its being a burial ground as well, while he remained adamant, the natives conferred and argued, wrestling between the thought of the friendship with him and with their determination to appease their gods.

After many koreros, friendship gave way to the tenets of their unwritten law, and it was decided to grasp the first opportunity for hitting Perrett in the direction which would hurt him most —by kidnapping the child they knew he idolised, by spiriting her , away to sonic far-off pa where no white man should reached her, by making her work for them, teaching her to forget the lessons of her pakeha childhood . So, when Queenie tripped gaily over the grass in her bare feet, on that memorable morning in late summer, 18(34, she had no idea that a semi-circle of half-clad brown figures was slowly closing the gap between its two ends —and she was in the centre. Before she could realise their presence a blanket enveloped her head and shoulders, and strange, brown arms were carrying her away. The Journey. It .seemed a long time before they removed the blanket and by the Lime the party halted it was too far away from the Perrett homestead for Queenic's screams to be heard.

After they had rested for a while the party moved on once more, but this time Queenie was permitted to walk, and when they had traversed a distance of about half a mile they c-ame to a thin belt of trees, beyond which lay a small natural clearing. The Maoris squatted on the ground while the captive stood at one end of a lightening-withered tree.

She thought of her mother who was ill, and of her brothers and sistens whom she had left to play in the paddock while she went J'or the cows, she thought of what might have happened to the cows and of what her father would say if they were lost. She looked straight ahead of her, and some distance away she saw a man splitting posts, and she wondered whether he would look at her, whether he would take her hack home again. But the man did not pay very much attention to her, although he twice slopped what he was doing to look in her direction, and she commenced to cry once more. $ ! * * « a

Then followed a nightmare of years, a period in which she was absolutely forbidden to speak to the

oakeha, when she learned many of the Maori crafts, and to work very hard. Qucenie's earlier life, in fact the first fiwenty years of her existence among them, was one of unremitting "jahour and hut little affection. She had been taken overland from Taranaki to the East Coast and from tli ere taken in a canoc to Wh an gave i. The gum fields saw her Jor years after that, and work in the gum fields in those days was hard. Often she cried herself to sleep. Maybe because of her impotence to alter her lot, perhaps because her memory retained the more poignant terrors which fled through her mind during the days and nights when she and the kidnappers toiled through the practically trackless forest lands.

Even tliongh she had thrown to womanhood the Maoris feared pursuit. Hers was a life of moving from place to place, never settled, yet always labouring, either in the gum fields or at the pa, carrying pikaus of gum or preparing the food One afternoon she was out cutting wood some distance from the pa, and oii her way back with some of the wood she had cut she met a young Government surveyor, who .stopped her, questioning as to howshe came to be living with the Maoris, and whether her father and mother were alive. But she could not remember anything very clearly. The natives received a fright and next morning they scattered the embers of their camp fires and made into the bush. x )B =» * The hope which springs from despair and longing never left the heart of William Perrett, and lu| repeatedly left his work to iollow the guide posts of information he received from various sourc.es. If his information was often correct, the cunning of the natives and the remarkable manner in which they eluded their pursuers showed that they, too, kept themselves wellinformed as to the movements of white men in the locality. About :!') years after she had disappeared Perrett heard that she was in the King Country and immediately lie urged liis two sons, "William and George, to go in search of her. Providence smiled, or so they believed at the time, for there they mot a white man who told them that It? was living with Maoris and they knew that the brothers were looking for Queenie. "It's no use your looking for them," he said. "The natives know you are after your sister, and as you move forward, so do they move back. I live with them, and I know all their plans—or most of them. As soon as they settle down in one place I'll write you a letter, telling you exactly where your sister may be found, so that you can follow quickly and take them by surprise."

They were overwhelmed with joy and surprise a!: what seemed to them a wonderful stroke of good fortune, and they quickly made preparations for the return journey, profusely thanking the man who promised to be their good friend. The brothers hastened back to Tnranaki where they passed on the tidings to their father. Eagerly they awaited the arrival of the mail. Daily they spoke in fine terms of the man who was going to help tliem. The days sped with the cycle of months as the fiend who had pro- j mised his help laughed with his Maori friends at the thought of the letter which would never arrive.... and the heart of William Perrett gave out under the strain. This was the second disappointment they had received in the last tour years. Perrett even circulated an offer of £150 for the recovery of his daugh ter dead or alive in the hope that the Maoris woidd be attracted by the money and the hope of her return became an obsession with him. By this time Queenie had married a chieftain Ewa and it was unlikely Iliac the natives wuld relinquish liieir hold on her. ■p m « sp Mrs F. J. Ilayward, daughter of Mary Ann Perrett, was walking along the Strand, Whakatane, when she saw a while-haired old lady who was talkling to a group of Maoris. Mrs Hay ward was not intrigued so much by the sight of a white 'woman conversing ■with a number of wahincs as by her resemblai-.ee to her own mother, and when the woman walked away from the Maoris, Mrs Hayward drew her aside, saying: "You are a white woman—what are you doing with the Maoris?"

"I -know," came the reply, "I know that I am a white woman but I have been with them all my life. I can't

remember how I came to be with them, nor do I know who my parents were." While she Avas talking, Mrs Hayward noticed a long scar on the old lady's throat. As soon as she saw the mark she realised that the striking likeness between Mrs Ngoungou and her motljer was too positive to be mere coincidence, and there came to her mind many fragments of the stories her mother had told her concerning Queenie, who was kidnapped by the Maoris and never seen again. Mrs Haj r ward said little to the woman she believed to be her aunt, but as soon as she returned to her home at Tancatua she wrote a letter to her mother in Lower Hutt., Wellington, appraising her of the discovery.

Mrs Hay ward's mother was astound ed when she received the letter from her daughter for she had believed Queenie to be dead many years before, but as soon as she was able to leave the tlutt, she did so, making the long journey to the Bay of Plenty that she might identity the fcistcr "wlio for over half a century had been lost to her. What a poignant, what a wonderful meeting was theirs! They met in the Strand—the small girl had gone to fetch the cows and the other who innocently thought she was pku'ing with the other children and when they saw each other liiev knew at once there was no need for idle questioning, no need for another to introduce them. Unaffectedly, nor caring who s'aw them, these two women tightly embraced, the' tears streaming down Lhoir cheeks, the joy of the moment and the fears and terrors of the nights long since faded passing before them in a whirlwind of incoherent expression, and the little girl who was made the instrument of a terrible vengeance was restored once more to her family. s * « » It is all very bewildering, very remarkable. Remarkable to reflect that although a winsome little dot was made to bear some bitter crosses, she has developed a sweet dignified outlook which, with unpleasantness cast behind it, permits her to live on the pleasant hillsides of the present, abetted by the vista fo three manly sons and an accomplished daughter. The End